THE  LIFE  AND  LETTERS 

OF 

SISTER  ST.  FRANCIS  XAVIER 

(!RMA  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE) 


OF  THE  SISTERS  OF  PROVIDENCE 

or 
SAINT  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS,  INDIANA 


BY 
ONE  OF  HER  SISTERS 

MMK.  CLEMENTINE  DE  LA  COUBINIERK 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH 
BY  THE  SISTERS  OF  PROVIDENCE 


•f  0 1  CA:"* 

REVISED  AND  ENLARGED  EDITION 


B.  HERDER  BOOK  CO. 

17  SOUTH  BROADWAY,  ST.  Louis,  Mo. 

AND 
68  GREAT  RUSSELL  ST.,  LONDON,  W.  C. 

1917 


NIHIL  OB8TAT 

8ti.  Ludovici,  die  7.  Sept.  1917 

F.  O.  Holweck, 

Censor  Librorum 


IMPRIMATUR 

Bti.  Ludovici,  die  7.  Sept.  1917 

•^Joannes  J.  Glennon, 
Archiepiscopus 

Sti.  Ludovici 


Copyright,  1917, 

by 
Sisters  of  Providence, 

Att  rights  reserved 
Printed  in  V.  8.  A. 


FOREWORD 

The  apostolic  fire  burning  in  the  heart  of  Sister  Saint 
Francis  Xavier  furnished  to  her  biographer  the  un- 
translatable title  "Une  Femme  Apdtre"  The  spirit  of 
the  Twelve  had  so  completely  possessed  her  that  no 
other  term  could  accurately  portray  her;  yet,  in  the 
present  edition  we  have  dropped  the  old  French  title 
through  courtesy  to  the  language,  which  gave  so  much 
in  the  chosen  word  and  received  so  little  from  an  alien 
tongue.  Seldom  does  a  work  carry  into  a  foreign  dress 
the  artistic  niceties  of  the  original,  and  we  can  not  hope 
to  have  succeeded  in  producing  the  native  charm  of 
"Une  Femme  Apdtre";  there  is,  however,  an  amount  of 
hitherto  unused  material — letters  and  notes — that  can- 
not fail  to  add  new  interest  to  the  present  work,  and  its 
opportuneness,  when  devotion  to  the  Most  Blessed  Sac- 
rament is  assuming  an  ever-increasing  ardor,  will  be 
evident. 

The  Life  of  our  saintly  Sister  was  first  published  in 
France  in  1879.  By  the  time  the  English  translation 
appeared  in  1882,  it  had  run  through  ten  editions  in  the 
French,  four  in  the  German,  and  one  in  the  Spanish. 
The  English  translation  has  long  been  out  of  print. 
As  incessant  demand  has  urged  a  reproduction,  this  re- 
vised and  enlarged  edition  promises  to  be  not  less  warmly 
welcomed  than  the  former.  Encouraged  by  this  hope 
we  send  forth  the  little  work  on  its  mission  of  con- 
quest, to  the  glory  of  God,  always  admirable  in  His 
Saints. 

ill 


We  hereby  protest  that  in  portraying  the  character 
of  our  beloved  Sister  it  has  been  our  intention  to  con- 
form in  all  things  to  the  teachings  of  Holy  Church,  and 
to  use  such  terms  as  saint,  miracle,  and  the  like,  in  the 
sense  authorized  by  the  decree  of  Urban  VIII  and  other 
pronouncements  of  the  Holy  Apostolic  See,  whose  judg- 
ments we  accept  with  most  filial  affection  and  humble 
submission. 

THE  SISTERS  OF  PROVIDENCE 
or  ST.  MARY-OF-THE- WOODS. 


iv 


PREFACE 

A  revised  edition  of  the  Life  and  Letters  of  Sister 
Saint  Francis  Xavier  is  especially  welcome  at  this  time, 
when  the  centennial  celebration  of  Indiana's  statehood 
has  revived  the  memory  and  the  worth  of  those  who 
have  laid  the  foundation  of  Indiana's  position  and  power 
among  the  States  of  the  Union. 

The  Life  and  Letters  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  re- 
freshens our  memory,  in  a  special  manner,  with  the 
heroic  deeds  of  those,  who,  in  the  designs  of  Wisdom 
Eternal,  were  destined  to  plant  the  seeds  of  faith,  since 
then  grown  and  still  growing  into  the  mighty  tree  of  the 
Gospel.  Looking  only  to  God's  glory  and  to  the  spread 
of  His  kingdom  among  men,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
they  have  written  so  little  concerning  themselves. 
Fortunately,  in  the  correspondence  preserved  and  here 
presented,  we  have  virtually  an  autobiography  of  one  of 
these  great  servants  of  God. 

This  is  a  remarkable  book,  from  any  point  of  view; 
one  containing  the  simple  recital  of  the  history  of  a  soul 
very  dear  to  God,  and  of  the  wonderful  influence  over 
its  companions,  who  readily  discerned  the  rare,  super- 
natural gifts  of  this  heroine  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- 
Woods.  Wholly  and  irrevocably  had  she  given  herself 
to  God,  profoundly  convinced  as  she  was  that  "all  is 
vanity  save  to  love  and  follow  Him." 

The  reading  of  this  Life  will  dispel  the  misunder- 
standings, the  doubts,  and  the  fears,  sometimes  enter- 
tained by  fond  mothers,  concerning  the  true  nature  of 


vi  PREFACE 

the  sacrifice  made  by  those  who  have  chosen  the  better 
part ;  and  will,  we  hope,  fire  the  heart  of  many  a  young 
woman  with  the  love  of  the  Heavenly  Bridegroom,  and 
the  longing  to  join  the  "thousands  who  follow  the  Lamb 
whithersoever  He  goeth." 

JOSEPH  CHARTRAND, 

Indianapolis,  Bishop  Coadjutor. 

October  22,  1916. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  REVISED 
ENGLISH  TRANSLATION 

In  all  sincerity  I  can  say  that  the  invitation  to  write 
an  Introduction  to  the  English  translation  of  the  Life 
and  Letters  of  Sister  Francis  Xavier,  Irma  le  Fer  de 
la  Motte,  is  an  immense  joy  to  me.  I  seize  the  occasion 
eagerly,  for  it  gives  expression  to  my  veneration  for  a 
peculiarly  gifted  heroine  of  God's  service.  And,  be- 
sides, I  am  hereby  placed  in  affectionate  relationship 
with  a  religious  community  whose  praises  are  on  the  lips 
and  in  the  hearts  of  so  large  a  portion  of  Catholic 
Americans. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier,  who  was  a  child  of 
benediction  from  her  mother's  womb,  was  chosen  by 
God  to  be  the  trusted  associate  of  the  sainted  Mother 
Theodore  Guerin,  the  Foundress  of  the  Sisterhood  of 
Providence  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods.  She  ranks 
among  the  foremost  of  the  pioneer  religious  of  the 
Church  in  America,  as  well  for  the  bright  qualities  of 
her  noble  nature  as  for  her  remarkable  endowments  of 
grace. 

Born  and  reared  in  the  sanctuary  of  a  typical 
Christian  family  of  Brittany,  this  elect  soul  enjoyed  the 
earliest  favors  of  that  Providence  whose  very  name  was 
to  be  the  proud  title  of  her  Community. 

Irma's  mother,  worthy  to  be  the  Novice  Mistress  of 
saints,  spoke  of  her  child's  First  Communion  as  if  it  were 
her  dedication  to  highest  perfection.  She  wrote  to  a 
friend  about  her  preparation  of  Irma  for  the  sublime 
event : 

vii 


viii         INTRODUCTION  TO  REVISED  EDITION 

"The  child's  father  and  I  shed  our  tears  upon  the 
little  one,  sweet  tears,  the  prelude  of  still  sweeter  ones. 
On  that  beautiful  morning,  what  joy  was  mine  while 
clothing  my  little  Irma  in  her  white  garments,  symbols 
of  the  innocence  adorning  her  heart  1  What  a  moment 
for  a  Christian  mother  who  beholds  her  child  for  the  first 
time  approaching  the  God  of  Angels!" — words  like 
those  of  the  angels  of  holy  baptism ;  but  they  especially 
voice  the  feelings  of  a  priest  who  officiates  at  the  altar 
when  young  maidens  are  invested  with  the  sacred  habit 
of  religion. 

And  the  mother's  holy  anticipations  were  justified  by 
the  event,  for  a  marked  change  was  seen  in  Irma  after 
her  First  Communion.  I  quote  from  the  first  letter  of 
Irma  printed  by  the  author  of  the  Life,  addressed  to 
another  young  girl,  an  effusion  of  childish  love  lighted 
up  by  the  earlier  gleams  of  that  divine  vocation  destined 
to  attract  her  to  the  American  Apostolate.  ( The  italics 
are  mine.) 

After  describing  the  sweet  air  of  devotion  in  her  home, 
she  says: 

"You  dread  the  seductions  of  the  world.  I  thank 
God  that  He  has  inspired  you  with  so  great  a  fear  of 
its  dangers.  It  is  thus  we  should  feel  and  act.  God 
cannot  be  placed  in  the  balance  with  the  world.  For 
Him  we  should  be  willing  to  leave  country,  family — all, 
even  ourselves."  How  clearly  did  this  happy  little  girl 
know  the  entire  wisdom  of  life.  Even  so  early  did  Irma 
feel  that  the  only  worth  of  existence  is  to  know  and  love 
Jesus  Christ ;  that  the  test  of  all  excellence  is  the  straight 
line  drawn  between  time  and  eternity ;  that  the  principal 
subject  of  all  thought,  and  aim  of  all  conduct,  is  rightly 
to  choose  between  the  things  of  God  and  the  things  of 
the  world. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  REVISED  EDITION  ix 

It  seems  to  have  been  a  grace  prevenient  of  reason's 
fuller  activity — a  sort  of  divine  instinct — that  inspired 
this  young  girl  of  an  ideal  Christian  home  to  long  to  give 
it  up,  with  all  its  parental  love,  all  the  love  of  brothers 
and  sisters,  in  order  to  bury  herself  among  savages  in 
some  remote  wilderness.  One  cannot  fix  too  early  her 
calling  to  the  apostolic  life.  And  practically  forecast- 
ing the  future,  she  began  in  her  young  heart  to  arrange 
for  her  departure  for  the  foreign  missions.  Vocation! 
That  divine  word  had  been  spoken  in  the  hidden  depths 
of  her  soul,  and  she  had  hearkened  to  it  gladly. 

It  was  several  years  later  that  God  spoke  it  to  her 
outwardly  by  the  lips  of  her  spiritual  adviser,  the  Jesuit 
Pere  Besnoin.  "You  will  go  to  the  foreign  missions  to 
convert  little  savages,"  he  said  to  her,  and  his  words 
sounded  in  the  inner  chamber  of  her  soul,  waking  the 
echoes  of  heaven's  earlier  calling.  Writing  to  a  favorite 
of  hers  she  said:  "I  saw  a  missionary  from  Indiana 
[Monseigneur  de  la  Hailandiere]  walking  in  the  garden 
with  Abbe  Cardonnet,  and  as  I  saluted  them  I  learned 
that  they  had  been  talking  about  me — about  my  going 
to  the  Indiana  mission.  O  my  God,  what  a  moment 
was  this!  What!  to  give  up  everything  that  I  loved, 
and  so  suddenly!  How  shall  I  speak  of  this  to  my 
father,  and  to  my  mother!  But  let  me  tell  you,  dearest 
Elvire,  that  here  at  home  I  am  happy,  most  happy,  and 
yet  for  God,  and  only  for  God,  do  I  give  up  everything. 
God! — oh!  He,  indeed,  is  worth  a  few  tears,  a  few 
bruises  of  the  heart." 

We  must  pass  over  the  interval  elapsing  between 
these  preliminary  movements  of  grace  and  her  novitiate 
and  profession  in  the  Providence  Sisterhood,  founded 
some  thirty  years  previously  in  the  diocese  of  Le  Mans, 
referring  the  reader  to  the  detailed  account  of  this  in- 


x  INTRODUCTION  TO  REVISED  EDITION 

teresting  period,  as  well  as  of  the  voyage  to  America, 
given  in  the  Life. 

When  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  joined  her  Sisters 
in  Indiana  in  the  early  forties  of  the  last  century,  that 
state  had  been  admitted  to  the  Union  for  more  than  a 
score  of  years.  None  the  less  that  region  was  still  a 
sylvan  wilderness,  its  homes  were  log  cabins — the  cradles 
of  a  hardy  stalwart  race  of  citizens — its  entire  existence 
a  warfare  with  the  forest,  hewing  down  its  giant  trees 
and  burning  them  up,  and  then, — a  most  toilsome  labor 
— breaking  up  the  soil  for  a  crop,  a  soil  rich  only  in 
promise,  and  yielding  the  pioneer  farmer  and  his  wife 
and  little  ones  but  frugal  subsistence.  "We  live  in  the 
woods,"  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  wrote  home, 
"where  everything  is  chopping  trees  and  clearing  up 
new  fields,  sowing  and  reaping." 

Like  so  many  others  of  our  first  missionaries,  the 
Sisters  had  come  over  seas  to  convert  the  children  of  the 
savage  Indian  tribes.  But  Providence  so  arranged  that 
they  were  to  establish  schools  to  train  the  children  of  the 
white  settlers — the  Indians  having  been  deported  far  to 
the  westward; — "The  Americans,"  she  exclaims  in  a 
letter,  "whose  traits  of  character  are  so  calm,  so  cold,  so 
meditative."  She  marveled  at  them,  and  she  loved 
them  at  first  sight.  She  knew  their  defects,  however, 
and  with  instantaneous  readiness  her  apostolate  directed 
all  its  energies  to  them,  as  they  were  scattered  through  a 
diocese  embracing  Indiana  and  Illinois,  equal  in  area  to 
the  half  of  France.  "In  this  whole  wide  diocese,"  she 
writes,  "there  is  but  one  Catholic  school." 

No  sooner  had  the  Sisters  arrived  at  Saint  Mary-of- 
the- Woods  than  vocations  began  to  be  added  them  from 
heaven  in  reward  of  their  apostolic  fervor.  These  were 


INTRODUCTION  TO  REVISED  EDITION  xi 

noble-minded  girls,  children  for  the  most  part  of  the  first 
Catholic  settlers  of  the  Great  West.  But  even  more 
precious  gifts  of  Providence  were  vouchsafed  in  the  re- 
inforcements of  new  Sisters  and  Novices  from  the  Old 
World;  so  that  in  not  many  years  Saint  Mary-of-the 
Woods,  as  the  Mother  House  was  appropriately  called, 
became  the  center  of  a  system  of  schools  from  primary 
grades  up  to  the  Academy  diploma  and,  later,  the  Col- 
lege degree,  established  in  almost  all  the  cities  and  towns 
of  that  vast  region.  This  enforced,  of  course,  an  im- 
mense activity  in  the  outward  apostolate,  and  it  calls  for 
a  profound  depth  of  piety  for  the  sanctification  of  the 
souls  of  the  Sisters ;  which  is  not  so  much  a  coordinate 
necessity  for  success  in  God's  outward  work,  as  it  is  the 
overmastering  element  in  the  making  of  the  apostle. 
Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier's  help  was  essential  to  both 
departments  of  the  religious  vocation.  She  was  Mother 
Theodore's  right  hand.  She  was  apt  for  every  duty, 
willing  for  every  humiliation,  a  fountain  of  sympathy  in 
the  many  calamities  that  befell  the  first  fifteen  years  of 
the  Institute.  She  was  always  the  premier  counselor 
of  both  Superior  and  Sisters ;  a  woman  truly  valiant  and 
prudent.  And  in  the  spiritual  life  she  was  a  pattern  by 
which  to  plan  and  build  the  tabernacle  of  Christian  and 
religious  perfection.  Naturally  she  is  at  the  present 
day  venerated  as  one  of  the  saints  of  the  order,  her 
memory  a  sweet  incense  to  heaven  from  every  shrine  of 
the  community  now  become  a  widespread,  powerful 
Sisterhood. 

It  is  thus  that  she  is  manifested  in  this  volume,  made 
uj>  principally  of  her  letters.  This  feature  makes  the 
book  almost  an  autobiography.  Newman  says  that  the 
only  adequate  story  of  any  one's  career  is  his  letters.  It 
is  fortunate  that  so  very  many  of  those  of  Sister  Saint 


IMMACULATE  HEART 
.VITIATE 


xii          INTRODUCTION  TO  REVISED  EDITION 

Francis  Xavier  were  preserved.  They  exhibit  her 
apostolate  as  vexed  with  every  trial  and  surviving  with 
not  a  single  blemish.  She  was  absolutely  devoted  to  her 
divinely  appointed  task.  In  educational  work  she  was 
true  to  Christ's  ideal  of  forming  human  character,  un- 
flinchingly true,  and  she  shared  the  triumphant  success 
that  heaven  vouchsafed  her  order. 

Meanwhile  she  was  just  as  steadfastly  true  to  Christ's 
ideal  of  personal  perfection,  namely,  the  practice  of  the 
maxims  of  the  gospel  with  hearty  earnestness.  Her  de- 
sire of  perfection  was  a  constant  growth  from  the  living 
root  of  divine  love  planted  in  her  soul  in  childhood;  a 
frame  of  mind  which,  says  the  Founder  of  the  Paulist 
community — echoing  all  spiritual  teachers — is  "the 
backbone  of  every  religious  order." 

Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  was  called  away  to  her 
divine  Spouse  prematurely; — so  it  seemed  to  human 
judgment.  She  had  scarcely  completed  her  fortieth 
year  when  her  health,  never  strong,  showed  a  weakness 
that  alarmed  her  Sisters.  But  this  failing  of  her  bodily 
strength  imparted  to  her  spirit  a  strength  of  resignation 
to  the  divine  will  not  felt  before.  It  was  the  autumnal 
breath  of  God  ripening  all  the  fruits  of  virtue  upon  the 
tree  He  had  planted  in  the  beginning. 

When  near  the  end  Sister  Saint  Francis  seems  to  have 
claimed  a  place  among  the  ascending  and  descending 
angels  on  the  patriarch's  ladder  between  earth  and 
heaven.  Back  and  forth  went  her  prayers,  adoring 
Jesus  Christ  on  the  altar  and  the  Blessed  Trinity  in  the 
highest  heavens,  and  again  offering  her  life  and  its 
dearest  treasures  of  love  for  her  Sisters  and  their  aposto- 
late. In  the  last  months  of  her  life  she  seemed  fasci- 
nated with  thoughts  of  the  future  stretching  out  before 


INTRODUCTION  TO  REVISED  EDITION        xiii 

the  community  she  loved  so  well,  and  which  was  then 
beginning  to  open  with  more  generous  vistas  of  growth 
and  usefulness.  The  following  prayer  was  penned  by 
her,  the  dictate  of  truest  apostolic  zeal,  when  she  was  on 
the  threshold  of  eternity,  as  if  waving  farewell  to  the 
earth  and  her  loved  ones.  It  is  called  by  her  Sisters  her 
PRAYER  FOR  INDIANA. 

"Remember,  O  Lord,  this  land  of  Indiana,  which 
Thou  didst  possess  from  the  beginning,  of  which  Thou 
thoughtest  from  all  eternity,  which  Thou  heldest  in  Thy 
almighty  hand  when  Thou  didst  create  the  world,  and 
which  was  hidden  in  Thy  adorable  heart  when,  dying  on 
the  cross,  Thou  didst  confide  its  poor  inhabitants  to  the 
care  of  Thy  divine  Mother. 

"O  Lord,  remember  Indiana.  Say  but  the  word  and 
all  here  shall  be  made  children  of  Abraham.  Send  good 
laborers  into  this  Thy  vineyard,  holy  missionaries  who 
will  have  no  interests  other  than  Thine  own,  men  accord- 
ing to  Thy  heart,  and  true  servants  of  Mary,  Thy  holy 
Mother. 

"They  will  defend  Thy  glory,  they  will  publish  Thy 
name,  they  will  save  souls  that  have  cost  Thee  Thy 
precious  blood.  Visit  us  by  Thy  power  and  in  Thy 
mercy.  These  favors  we  ask  by  the  intercession  of  our 
holy  patrons,  Saint  Joseph  and  Saint  Francis  Xavier. 
Amen." 

Does  not  this  prayer  forecast  many  a  conversion  to 
the  true  faith? 

And  now  it  remains  for  us  only  to  bid  the  reader  to 
measure  his  steps  through  this  book  with  deliberation, 
for  its  every  page  holds  lessons  of  virtue  taught  with 
living  insistence.  It  is  especially  full  of  the  missionary 
spirit.  Its  chapters  are  as  interesting  as  any  novel; 
they  ever  tell  of  happenings  of  deep  religious  import, 


xiv         INTRODUCTION  TO  REVISED  EDITION 

and  not  seldom  bordering  on  the  miraculous.  The  book 
edifies  and  instructs  from  cover  to  cover — a  memorable 
book.  It  is  the  graphic  exhibit  of  an  interior  life  of  a 
spirit  belonging  to  the  higher,  nobler  quality  of  our 
humanity;  and  at  the  same  time  it  is  the  chronicle  of  a 
life  of  unwearied  activity,  always  squared  to  the  princi- 
ples of  religion  and  the  rules  of  enlightened  reason.  It 
is  the  autobiography  of  an  heroic  soul,  made  up  of  letters 
written  with  exquisite  spirit  and  sentiment,  as  well  as 
uttered  with  most  artless  candor,  every  letter  that  of  soul 
speaking  to  soul  through  the  transparent  medium  of 
closest  love;  a  history  that  has  the  charm  of  interior 
revelation  amid  an  outward  environment  of  men  and 
events  which  are  now,  and  which  must  ever  remain,  of 
prime  interest  to  Catholic  Americans.  Whatever  good 
we  at  present  have  in  the  Church  in  the  United  States, 
we  owe  principally  to  the  Catholic  men  and  women  of  a 
past  generation.  Of  them  this  great-souled  Sister  was  a 
type.  And  whatsoever  we  hope  to  achieve  for  God  at 
a  future  day,  shall  be  ours  only  in  proportion  to  our 
fidelity  to  that  type.  And  this  is  especially  true  in  the 
supremely  important  matter  of  education. 

WALTER  ELLIOTT,  C.S.P. 


LETTER  OF  THE 
RIGHT  REVEREND  JAMES  O'CONNOR, 

BISHOP  OF  OMAHA, 

Dear  Sister: 

Many  thanks  for  the  "Life  and  Letters  of  Sister 
Saint  Francis  Xavier,"  which  I  received  on  Saturday. 
I  have  read  it  with  very  deep  interest,  and  I  hope,  not 
without  profit.  One  thing  is  certain,  it  has  made  me 
feel  very  cheap  and  mean  in  my  own  eyes.  I  never  read 
such  letters  as  Irma's,  so  natural,  so  exquisite  in  style, 
so  full  of  the  spirit  of  God.  What  a  perfect  soul  they 
reveal! — perfect  in  natural  gifts,  but  especially  so  in  the 
gifts  of  divine  grace.  God  did  not  bestow  on  her  the 
gift  of  miracles,  he  did  not  invite  her  to  the  practice  of 
extraordinary  austerities,  but  he  developed  in  her  all  the 
sweet  and  gentle  virtues  that  go  to  make  a  saint.  Yet, 
in  reading  her  life,  one  is  made  to  feel  that  behind  that 
extraordinary  perfection  in  her  daily  actions,  there  was 
a  reserved  force  that  would  have  enabled  her  to  remove 
mountains,  had  it  been  necessary  to  do  so.  God  would 
have  refused  nothing  to  one  of  her  faith  and  holiness  of 
life. 

Blessed,  indeed,  is  the  place  that  holds  the  relics  of 
such  a  servant  of  God,  but  still  more  blessed  in  having 
been  consecrated  by  her  labors  and  her  prayers!  The 
fragrance  of  her  virtues,  and  the  influence  of  her  ex- 
ample will  long  be  felt  at  Saint  Mary's,  and  her  prayers 
will  send  down  many  a  grace  on  its  inmates.  When  I 
visited  you,  two  years  ago,  I  was  sensibly  impressed  by 

XV 


xvi  LETTER  OF  BISHOP  O'CONNOR 

the  religious  atmosphere  of  the  place.  I  thought  I  saw 
in  many  of  your  members  evidences  of  a  higher  order  of 
piety.  I  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  this,  at  the  time, 
not  knowing  how  they  could  have  enjoyed  any  excep- 
tional advantages  of  training  or  directors.  But,  now,  it 
is  all  plain  to  me.  "What  a  man  sows,  that  shall  he 
reap."  I  saw  the  harvest,  but  till  I  read  of  Mother 
Theodore,  and  Sister  Xavier,  and  their  companions,  I 
did  not  know  the  sort  of  seed  that  had  been  cast  into  the 
furrow.  May  God  bless  you  all,  and  keep  you  long  in 
the  spirit  that  animated  those  pure  and  generous  souls! 

Truly  yours  in  Dno, 

Omaha,  JAMES  O'CONNOR. 

June  12,  1882. 


DEDICATION 

TO  THE 

RIGHT  REVEREND  FRANCIS  SILAS 
CHATARD, 

BlSHOP   OF   VlNCENNES,1    INDIANA 

Monseigneur: 

The  life  story  of  a  daughter  of  Brittany,  who  was  also 
a  religious  of  your  diocese,  is  told  in  these  pages.  Like 
a  gentle  flower  she  was  transplanted  from  the  lovely 
borders  of  the  Ranee  to  the  forests  of  the  New  World, 
there  to  exhale  her  perfume,  to  fructify,  and  to  pass 
away,  leaving  behind  her  the  remembrance  of  her 
sanctity. 

I  trust  that  inexperienced  hands  have  not  robbed  the 
writings  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  of  any  of  their 
original  freshness,  and  that  the  sentiments  of  love  and 
confidence  in  Divine  Providence  with  which  her  soul 
overflowed  have  been  preserved  in  all  their  vigor,  and 
will  find  an  echo  in  the  soul  of  the  reader.  May  the  ap- 
probation I  hope  for  from  the  Prelate  who  illustrates  by 
his  virtues  and  his  talents  the  see  of  Brute  and  Hailan- 
diere,  of  Bazin  and  Saint  Palais,  draw  down  upon  this 
humble  work  the  success  which  I  desire  only  for  the 
greater  glory  of  God. 

Prostrate  at  your  feet,  the  author,  as  the  humblest  of 
the  servants  of  the  Church  and  its  Princes,  begs  your 
benediction  upon  her  labors. 

CLEMENTINE  DE  LA  CORBINIERE, 
(nee  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE)  . 

1  The  See  of  Vincennes  was  transferred  to  Indianapolis  in  the  year  1898. 

xvii 


REPLY  OF 

THE  RIGHT  REVEREND  BISHOP 
FRANCIS  SILAS  CHATARD 

TO 

MADAME  DE  LA  CORBINIERE 

Madame: 

Please  to  accept  my  thanks  for  the  dedication  of  your 
book,  entitled  "The  Life  of  Sister  Saint  Francis 
Xavier,"  with  which  you  have  honored  me. 

This  act  on  your  part  is  all  the  more  pleasing  to  me, 
because  I  have  often  heard  of  the  exemplary  virtues  of 
this  religious,  and  of  the  good  she  accomplished  in  my 
diocese. 

I  am  convinced  that  the  perusal  of  her  life  and  deeds 
will  not  fail  to  produce  a  good  effect,  and  to  enkindle 
the  fire  of  divine  love  in  the  souls  of  those  whom  God 
may  call  to  follow  her ;  and  it  will  also  serve  to  edify  the 
faithful  in  general. 

Believe  me,  Madame,  with  the  greatest  respect, 
Your  faithful  servant  in  Christ, 

FEANCIS  SILAS, 
Bishop  of  Vincennes. 


xviii 


It  is  an  honor  for  me  to  write  some  lines  of  introduc- 
tion to  this  book,  not  one  page  of  which  was  written  with 
a  view  to  publicity,  and  in  accepting  the  honor  I  perform 
an  act  of  gratitude. 

It  is  now  nearly  forty  years  since  I  first  heard  the 
name  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier.  It  was  at  Tours. 
A  lady  of  great  intelligence  and  of  rare  virtues,  the 
Baroness  de  la  Valette — who,  when  I  was  far  from  my 
family,  had  received  me  with  real  kindness  and  Christian 
and  maternal  cordiality — asked  me  one  day  to  call  on 
her,  as  she  expected  an  American  religious  whose  history, 
she  thought,  would  interest  me.  I  gladly  accepted  her 
kind  invitation,  and  there  found  Mother  Theodore 
Guerin,  who  was  then  in  France  soliciting  aid  for  her 
convent  at  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  which  had  been 
founded  in  the  diocese  of  Vincennes  only  a  few  years 
before,  and  which  had  recently  sustained  a  heavy  loss  by 
fire. 

Without  giving  details  of  this  meeting,  I  shall  only 
say  that  the  first  pious  book  I  published  was  a  little 
sketch  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  written  under  the 
inspiration  of  Mother  Theodore's  recital  and  almost  in 
her  own  words.  The  marked  and,  I  may  add,  the  per- 
manent success  of  my  first  modest  publication,  the  fruit 
which  it  has  borne,  and  the  warm  affection  which  the 
Sisters  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods  have  always  mani- 
fested for  me,  besides  the  help  and  support  which  their 
prayers  have  afforded  me  in  all  circumstances,  have  en- 


xx          INTRODUCTION  TO  FRENCH  EDITION 

couraged  me  to  dedicate  my  pen  to  record  the  contests 
and  victories  of  some  great  souls  who  loved  God  and 
served  the  Church. 

Irma  le  Fer  de  la  Motte  was  one  of  these  heroines. 
She  was  a  young  lady  of  rare  attractions,  the  grand- 
niece  or,  according  to  the  custom  of  Brittany,  great- 
grandniece  of  Madame  la  Baronne  de  la  Valette.  The 
domestic  life  which  she  describes  in  her  writings  is  most 
interesting.  It  is  the  life  of  a  Christian  household  of 
true  nobility,  a  household  governed  and  sustained  by  a 
wise  rule  of  life,  and  above  all  by  the  union  and  virtues 
of  the  members  of  the  family.  Irma  makes  them  all 
known  to  us  with  their  little  faults  and  their  amiable 
qualities. 

Monsieur  and  Madame  Charles  le  Fer  de  la  Motte, 
Irma's  parents,  persons  of  merit  and  highly  respected, 
lived  at  Saint  Servan,  at  a  place  called  Fours-a-Chaux. 
The  little  town  of  Saint  Servan  spreads  out  into  the  sur- 
rounding country,  the  houses  being  situated  in  the  midst 
of  gardens  and  fields.  The  property  of  Monsieur 
Charles  le  Fer  de  la  Motte  reaches  nearly  to  the  Ranee, 
which  it  overlooks.  Here  the  river  forms  a  small  bay, 
which  the  tide  enters  twice  daily.  It  is  frequented  by 
fishermen,  and  near  it  are  found  limekilns,  which  give 
the  name  to  the  locality.  The  sea,  the  vast  sea,  is  so 
near  that  it  can  be  seen  from  the  windows  of  Irma's 
dwelling.  At  some  distance,  and  southeast  of  the 
Ranee,  is  the  homestead  of  Lorette,  which  owes  its  name 
to  the  Chapel  of  Our  Blessed  Lady  situated  in  the 
domain  and  on  the  road  leading  from  Rennes  and  Dinan 
to  Saint  Malo.  Irma's  grandmother,  the  mother  of 
Monsieur  Charles  le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  lived  at  Lorette, 
with  her  three  daughters  and  her  youngest  son,  Henri 
de  la  Motte.  Her  two  eldest  daughters  were  not  mar- 


INTRODUCTION  TO  FRENCH  EDITION         xxi 

ried;  the  third  was  a  widow  and  had  three  children. 
Monsieur  Henri  had  six.  The  two  families  of  Lorette 
and  Fours-a-Chaux  could  thus  furnish  a  reunion  of 
thirty  souls,  of  whom  twenty-one  were  grandchildren  of 
the  dowager  of  Lorette.  They  were  quite  a  colony,  and 
their  number  was  increased  by  cousins  of  both  sexes, 
whose  names  will  be  found  in  the  correspondence,  and 
who  either  lived  near  or  came  from  time  to  time  to  pass 
some  weeks  at  these  hospitable  homes.  There  were 
neighbors  also.  Saint  Servan  had  in  its  vicinity  a  num- 
ber of  families  who  held  the  same  principles  and  lived 
the  same  sort  of  life  as  the  family  of  Monsieur  le  Fer. 
The  children  played  from  one  garden  to  another,  their 
lives  made  joyous  by  a  commingling  of  wise  discipline 
and  happy  liberty.  At  Lorette  the  domestic  chaplain, 
Abbe  Cardonnet,  was  both  the  friend  of  the  family  and 
the  instructor  of  the  little  children.  Irma  placed  herself 
under  his  direction,  and  received  from  him  special  light 
and  great  help  in  the  choice  of  her  missionary  career. 

But  we  must  not  forget  the  grandmother  at  Fours- 
a-Chaux  (Madame  le  Fer's  mother),  Madame  de 
Ginguene,  the  widow  of  one  of  the  victims  of  Quiberon. 
She  reserved  for  herself  the  charge  of  teaching  the 
children  sacred  history,  and  she  also  inspired  them  with 
a  love  for  the  poor  and  a  solicitude  for  souls.  She  her- 
self served  as  an  example  on  these  points  to  all  the 
devout  people  around.  Her  desires,  her  alms,  and  her 
efforts  were  all  directed  towards  the  erection  of  a  convent 
of  religious  women  at  Saint  Servan.  At  last  she  had 
the  happiness  of  seeing  there  an  establishment  of  the 
Sisters  of  Providence,  of  the  community  of  Ruille-sur- 
Loir.  She  did  not  then  suspect  that  her  little  Irma 
would  later  find  her  way  to  America  through  this  same 
Ruille. 


xxii        INTRODUCTION  TO  FRENCH  EDITION 

The  revolution  of  1830  deprived  Irma's  family  of  a 
great  portion  of  their  income,  and  imposed  sacrifices  on 
each  member.  All  were  obliged  to  become  useful  in 
some  way.  The  elder  children  assumed  the  care  of  the 
younger,  in  place  of  the  servants  who  had  to  be  dis- 
missed. Irma's  part  was  the  education  of  her  younger 
brothers  and  sisters.  The  poor,  who  had  already  been 
blessed  by  her  instruction,  could  bear  testimony  to  the 
special  aptitude  she  manifested  for  this  arduous  duty. 
She  studied  Latin,  in  order  to  keep  her  brothers  longer 
under  the  parental  roof  and  thus  shorten  the  time  of 
their  collegiate  course.  But  her  application  was  so 
great  that  it  had  to  be  moderated.  She  spent  herself 
in  her  classes,  as  well  as  in  her  works  of  charity,  and  even 
allowed  herself  to  be  so  carried  away  by  her  enthusiasm 
that  the  regularity  of  her  home  life  became  irksome  to 
her.  She  had  an  innate  horror  of  order  and  once  com- 
posed and  sustained  a  thesis  on  the  inconveniences  of  a 
regular  life.  The  requirement  of  eating,  retiring,  and 
rising  at  fixed  hours  was  burdensome  to  her.  She 
wished  to  follow  her  fancies  and  ideas  without  restraint 
— to  shorten  the  repast,  to  prolong  the  day,  to  curtail  the 
hours  of  sleep;  in  fact  she  had  such  a  distaste  for  real 
life  that  her  health  became  visibly  impaired. 

That  God  directs  all  things  is  clearly  manifest  from 
the  sequel.  Irma's  debilitated  state  induced  Madame 
le  Fer  to  send  her  away  from  Fours-a-Chaux.  But  she 
was  not  sent  far.  She  was  placed  at  Lorette,  and  one 
of  her  aunts  set  about  to  cure  her  of  her  excessive  en- 
thusiasm. The  true  remedy  was  now  providentially 
found.  Abbe  Cardonnet,  while  giving  her  lessons  in 
Latin,  undertook  her  spiritual  direction  also,  and  initi- 
ated her  gently  and  solidly  into  the  practice  of  Christian 
perfection. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  FRENCH  EDITION       xxiii 

The  religious  life  was  no  part  of  Irma's  early  plans. 
She  was  full  of  zeal  and  ardor,  but  tenacious  of  her 
independence;  and  though  she  wished  to  travel  to  dis- 
tant lands  to  help  souls  deprived  of  the  light  of  faith, 
she  had  no  idea  of  doing  this  under  rule.  Her  intention 
was  to  devote  herself  to  the  foreign  missions,  to  teach 
school,  to  dedicate  herself  to  the  service  of  the  sick — 
in  a  word,  to  give  up  her  whole  being  to  do  it  as  she 
pleased,  more  freely  even  than  when  she  lived  in  the 
bosom  of  her  family. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  Fours-a-Chaux  and  of  Lo- 
rette,  apostolic  work  was  already  going  on.  When  but 
a  child  Irma  entered  into  it,  and  aided  much  in  sustain- 
ing and  developing  it.  Catechism  was  taught,  societies 
were  organized,  and  among  the  poor  the  devotion  of 
the  Month  of  Mary  was  established.  While  Irma  was 
engaged  in  these  works,  the  "Nouvelles  Recues  des  Mis- 
sions," the  original  title  of  the  "Annals  of  the  Propaga- 
tion of  the  Faith,"  gave  strange  accounts  of  America. 
Cannibals  were  reported  to  be  among  the  flocks  of  the 
newly-erected  dioceses.  Vincennes,  which  was  to  be  the 
realization  of  Irma's  dreams,  was  only  a  post  in  the 
midst  of  a  savage  people,  who  retained  an  exalted  idea 
of  the  pioneer  Catholic  missionaries,  and  refused  to  re- 
ceive among  them  any  Protestant  ministers.  "We 
know  from  our  ancestors,"  they  said,  "that  the  ministers 
of  the  Great  Spirit  wear  black  gowns  and  do  not 
marry."  The  Annals  recounted  also  the  emigration  of 
the  Indians,  many  of  whom  were  Catholics,  driven  from 
their  homes  by  the  government.  Brittany  had  a  share 
in  the  work  of  the  apostolate.  The  saintly  Simon 
Brute,  first  Bishop  of  Vincennes,  was  a  native  of 
Rennes.  Among  the  priests  who  accompanied  him  from 
Brittany  was  the  seraphic  Benjamin  Petit,  whose  life 


xxiv       INTRODUCTION  TO  FRENCH  EDITION 

was  devoted  to  the  conversion  of  the  Indians,  and  whose 
death  was  caused  by  the  hardships  he  underwent  in  ac- 
companying one  of  the  expelled  Indian  tribes  from 
Lake  Michigan  to  the  borders  of  the  Mississippi. 

The  account  of  this  admirable  Christian  and  apostolic 
Odyssey  could  not  but  inflame  Irma's  heart.  Yet  the 
idea  of  becoming  a  religious  did  not  enter  her  mind. 
She  had  not  failed  to  notice  that  Father  Petit  in  his 
narrative  mentioned  the  assistance  which  an  old  French 
lady  afforded  him  in  instructing  his  neophytes.  Irma 
was  young  and  did  not  aspire  to  any  other  state  of 
life.  Devotedness  and  freedom  were  her  only  ambi- 
tion. 

Even  before  the  appearance  of  these  Annals,  Saint 
Servan  had  been  visited  by  a  missionary  for  the  purpose 
of  collecting  alms.  It  was  at  this  time,  in  the  year  1834, 
that  the  desire  of  being  employed  in  the  foreign  mis- 
sions sprang  up  in  Irma's  heart.  She  kept  the  secret 
to  herself,  however,  divulging  it  to  no  one  except  her 
director,  Abbe  Cardonnet,  who  acted  with  prudence, 
neither  deciding  for  nor  against  it.  Five  years  later, 
in  1839,  a  Breton  neighbor  and  friend  of  the  Le  Fer 
family,  Monseigneur  de  la  Hailandiere,  who  had  ac- 
companied Bishop  Brute  to  America,  and  who  after- 
wards became  his  successor  in  the  diocese  of  Vincennes, 
visited  France.  Irma  spoke  to  him  of  her  desire. 
After  consulting  Abbe  Cardonnet  the  bishop  decided  on 
its  immediate  accomplishment. 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  say  how  Providence,  in 
accepting  this  sacrifice  of  Irma  and  her  family,  wished 
to  crown  it  in  elevating  it ;  how  God  permitted  obstacles 
to  the  immediate  realization  of  the  project  to  which  He 
inclined  the  heart  that  desired  to  devote  itself  to  His 
service  while  dispensing  with  the  humility,  obedience, 


INTRODUCTION  TO  FRENCH  EDITION        xxv 

and  self-denial  of  the  religious  life.     Providence  con- 
ducts sweetly. 

We  shall  not  enter  into  details  of  the  joys,  the  labors, 
the  disasters,  nor  the  triumphs  of  our  Sister  in  Indiana. 
The  book,  full  of  interest  and  charm,  is  before  the 
reader.  I  shall  only  add  a  reflection  on  the  happiness 
of  parents  who  generously  give  their  children  to  God. 
Irma  was  the  crown,  the  glory  of  her  father  and  mother. 
Although  separated  from  them,  she  was  far  from  being 
lost  to  Lorette  and  Fours-a-Chaux.  The  closest  inti- 
macy was  kept  up  between  Saint  Servan  and  Saint 
Mary-of-the- Woods.  From  Indiana  flowed  a  stream 
of  delight  and  tenderness  to  the  dwellers  on  the  border 
of  the  Ranee.  The  orphans  of  Vincennes  and  Terre 
Haute  were  the  adopted  children  of  Monsieur  and 
Madame  le  Fer.  The  friends  of  Saint  Servan  from 
time  to  time  sent  them  presents,  and  were  interested  in 
all  that  concerned  them.  The  new  community  of  In- 
diana and  its  admirable  superior,  Mother  Theodore 
Guerin,  were  henceforth  a  part  of  the  Le  Fer  family; 
and,  by  an  interchange  of  prayers  and  letters,  their  souls 
were  always  in  unison.  The  wealth  of  parental  hearts 
was  poured  out  on  those  who,  responding  to  the  call 
of  God,  had  cooperated  so  energetically  and  tenderly  in 
the  sacrifice  of  their  child.  Irma,  by  her  thoughts,  her 
prayers,  and  her  affection,  remained  loving  and  charm- 
ing in  the  midst  of  her  family;  she  gave  them  counsel 
and  was  interested  in  their  progress ;  she  instructed  and 
directed  her  younger  sisters  and  brothers,  and  she  kept 
for  the  good  of  those  souls  allied  to  her  by  the  ties  of 
nature,  that  solicitude  which  was  the  prelude  and,  per- 
haps, the  germ  of  her  noble  and  sublime  vocation.  Thus 
she  belonged  to  God,  to  her  community,  and  also  to  her 
family. 


xxvi       INTRODUCTION  TO  FRENCH  EDITION 

This  family,  which  has  given  two  of  its  members  to 
the  arduous  and  sublime  work  of  the  Mission,  where 
they  have  labored  so  zealously  and  with  so  much  fruit, 
is  proposed  to  the  reader  as  an  object  of  edification. 
Virtue,  devotedness,  the  beauty  of  the  religious  life,  are 
so  gracefully  depicted  in  the  letters  of  Sister  Saint 
Francis  Xavier  that  in  reading  them  we  are  convinced 
that  her  wit,  of  which  she  so  charmingly  deplores  the 
loss,  was  not  killed  at  Ruille.  It  sprang  up  stronger, 
more  sprightly,  more  amiable  and  lovely.  As  her  heart, 
bruised  and  broken  in  accomplishing  the  will  of  God, 
remained  towards  her  family  even  more  affectionate  and 
cordial  than  ever  it  had  been,  so  her  mind,  in  despoiling 
itself  by  humility  of  all  pretensions  to  brilliancy,  aiming 
at  simplicity  and  truth  only,  became  still  more  beautiful 
and  charming.  It  may  be  that  my  long  standing  affec- 
tion and  respect  have  overruled  my  judgment,  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  her  correspondence,  so  instructive  and 
delightful,  is  of  incomparable  worth  and  interest. 

The  letters  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  have,  more- 
over, a  literary  value.  They  are  exquisite  and  ought 
to  endure.  I  believe  that  the  book  once  read  will  be 
read  again,  that  it  will  find  its  place  on  the  shelves  of 
the  library  where  correct  minds  and  delicate  hearts  place 
their  best  friends — those  whom  they  wish  to  be  near,  to 
whom  they  love  to  talk,  and  of  whom  they  seek  counsel 
and  elevation  of  mind  in  moments  of  perplexity  and 
weariness. 

LEON  AUBINEAU. 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD — FIRST  HOLY  COMMUNION    .  I 

II     YOUTH — VICISSITUDES — NEW  DUTIES — HOME-LIFE     .  9 

III     A  FRIEND 16 

IV     OCCUPATIONS  IN  THE   FAMILY — CATECHISM — MONTH 

OF  MARY — OTHER  SPIRITUAL  WORKS      ....  27 
V     ZEAL  FOR  THE  SALVATION  OF  SOULS — FIRST  INTEN- 
TION OF  BECOMING  A  MISSIONARY 88 

VI     VOCATION — LETTER   TO    HER    FATHER — CONSENT   OF 

M.  AND  MME.  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE       ....  43 
VII     LAST    DAYS    BEFORE    IRMA'S    DEPARTURE — HER    SO- 
JOURN  AT  SOULAINES 50 

VIII       RUILLE-SUR-LOIR IRMA   IN   THE    NOVITIATE       .         .         .61 

IX     IRMA  MUST  REMAIN  IN  FRANCE 85 

X     MOTHER  THEODORE  GOES  TO  AMERICA — FOUNDATION 

OF  SAINT  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 99 

XI     IRMA   RECEIVES  THE   RELIGIOUS  HABIT — HER  WORK 

AT  BREST 114 

XII     IRMA  AT  ST.  SERVAN — RENNES — LE  MANS — RUILLE 

— DEPARTURE  FOR  AMERICA  .      .      .      .     ;.      .      .138 

PART  II 

I     THE  VOYAGE — NEW  YORK .      .153 

II     JOURNEY   FROM    NEW    YORK    TO    ST.    MARY-OF-THE- 
WOODS — FIRST  LETTERS  FROM  INDIANA  .      .      .      .169 

III  MOTHER  THEODORE'S  VISIT  TO  FRANCE — HER  RETURN 

TO  ST.  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 190 

IV  IRMA'S  MISSIONARY  LABORS 203 

V     DEATH  OF  GRANDMOTHER  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE  AND 

OF  ABBE  CARDONNET 215 


XXV111 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

VI     MOTHER  THEODORE'S  ILLNESS — THE  FIRST  ABJURA- 
TION        225 

VII     IRMA,    MISTRESS    OF    NOVICES — SPIRITUAL    COUNSELS 

AND  TRAINING 241 

VIII     WORKS  OF  CHARITY  AND  ZEAL  .  256 

IX     DAYS  OF  TRIAL 269 

X     IRMA'S  ILLNESS — HER  CURE  THROUGH  OUR  LADY  OF 

LA  SALETTE 281 

XI     LITTLE  DETAILS  FROM  ST.  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS   .      .   287 

XII     DETAILS  OF  IRMA'S  FAMILY 293 

XIII     DEATH  OF  IRMA'S  FATHER — A  NEW  FRIEND,  M.  Du- 

PONT,  "THE  HOLY  MAN  OF  TOURS" 313 

XIV     VOCATION  OF  MLLE.  ELVIRE  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE    .   321 
XV     ELVIRE'S  ARRIVAL  AT  ST.  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS     .      .   332 
XVI     MARRIAGE  OF  MLLE.  CECILE  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE — 

DEATH  OF  M.  JOSEPH  CHOESNET 364 

XVII     DEATH  OF  IRMA'S  GODMOTHER,  HER  AUNT  MADEMOI- 
SELLE MARIE  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE 371 

XVIII  NEW  CONVENT  CHAPEL — DOGMA  OF  THE  IMMACULATE 
CONCEPTION  PROCLAIMED — JOY  AT  ST.  MARY-OF- 
THE-WOODS  377 

XIX     LAST  DAYS  AND  DEATH  OF  IRMA 394 

XX     DEATH  OF  MOTHER  THEODORE — SISTER  MARY  JOSEPH, 
MISTRESS   OF    NOVICES — DEATH    OF    SISTER    MARY 

JOSEPH 407 

INDEX  .  412 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier — Irma  Le  Fer  de  la  Motte    Frontispiece 

Madame  Le  Fer  de  la  Motte — Irma's  Grandmother — (From  a 

sketch  made  by  Irma  at  Lorette)  ....     Opp.  page  216 

Sister  Mary  Joseph — Elvire  Le  Fer  de  la  Motte  .      Opp.  page  346 


XXIX 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF 
SISTER  SAINT  FRANCIS  XAVIER 

(Irma  le  Fer  de  la  Motte) 

PART  ONE— FRANCE 
CHAPTER  I 

BIRTH   AND   CHILDHOOD — FIRST   COMMUNION 

IT  was  while  the  Church  was  celebrating  the  feast 
of  the  Resurrection  of  Our  Lord,  that  Irma  le 
Fer  de  la  Motte  came  into  the  world.  She  was 
born  at  Saint  Servan  in  Catholic  Brittany,  April  15, 
1816.  If,  as  some  maintain,  God  grants  special  graces 
to  large  families,  that  of  Monsieur  and  Madame  le  Fer 
was  certainly  entitled  to  the  blessings  of  Almighty  God, 
for  it  consisted  of  twelve  children,1  six  sons  and  six 
daughters,  of  whom  Irma  was  the  fourth.  Could  her 
parents  have  foreseen  on  the  day  of  her  birth  the  many 
gifts  and  graces  God  would  one  day  bestow  upon  her, 
they  would  have  joined  with  still  greater  ardor  of  soul 
in  the  sacred  chant  of  the  Church,  Gaudeamus. 
Alleluia! 

And  what  favor  more  precious  could  God  have  be- 

i  Eugene,  the  eldest  of  the  family  (died,  1877);  Charles,  captain  in  the 
navy  (died,  1878) ;  P£pa,  who  was  but  fourteen  months  older  than  Irma 
(died,  1858) ;  Irma,  whose  life  we  are  writing  (died,  1856) ;  Henri,  com- 
missary in  the  navy;  Alphonse,  a  priest  (died,  1868);  Cecile;  Eugenie; 
Elvire,  known  later  as  Sister  Mary  Joseph,  a  Sister  of  Providence  of 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods  (died,  1881);  Paul  (died,  1858);  Clementine, 
Inna's  godchild;  and  Louis,  the  youngest  of  the  twelve. 

1 


2  BIRTH  AND  BAPTISM 

stowed  upon  this  child  than  to  confide  her  to  a  truly 
Christian  family?  They  hastened  to  take  her  to  the 
church,  and  when  she  returned  adorned  with  the  grace 
of  holy  baptism,  how  lovingly  she  was  received  by  her 
mother,  whose  children  were  doubly  dear  to  her  after 
becoming  the  children  of  God.  It  was  the  pious  custom 
of  Madame  le  Fer  to  place  her  sons  and  daughters  under 
the  protection  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  by  giving  her  name 
to  each  in  baptism;  Irma  was  the  only  one  who  really 
bore  the  name,  however,  the  word  Irma  being  an  old 
form  of  Marie. 

The  first  years  of  Irma's  life  present  nothing  remark- 
able. Like  many  children  she  was  capricious  and  will- 
ful. Sometimes  her  father,  whose  business  and  official 
duties  kept  him  in  the  city  during  the  day,  was  obliged 
upon  his  return  in  the  evening  to  punish  Irma  for  re- 
fractory conduct.  Madame  le  Fer  generally  took  upon 
herself  the  painful  task  of  punishing,  in  order  that  her 
husband  after  his  daily  labors,  might  find  only  enjoy- 
ment in  the  presence  and  caresses  of  his  children;  in 
exceptional  cases,  however,  the  authority  of  the  father 
was  deemed  necessary,  and,  as  it  was  seldom  required, 
it  was  more  efficacious  in  its  effects. 

One  day  Irma,  in  a  moment  of  anger  having  struck 
the  nurse,  her  uncle,  an  officer  of  the  Royal  Guards, 
suddenly  entered  the  room,  and  made  her  blush  by  show- 
ing her  the  littleness  and  cowardice  of  striking  a  person 
who  was  powerless  to  defend  herself.  He  then  pre- 
vailed upon  her,  though  only  after  long  insistence,  to 
ask  forgiveness  of  the  servant.  This  wise  and  severe 
reprimand  made  so  salutary  and  lasting  an  impression 
upon  Irma,  that  henceforth  there  was  never  an  occasion 
to  reprove  her  for  such  outbursts  of  passion. 

Irma  considered  herself  pretty — as,  in  fact,  she  was — 


CONSECRATION  TO  THE  BLESSED  VIRGIN         3 

and  she  loved  to  linger  before  a  mirror  admiring  herself. 
Her  nurse  having  told  her  that  vain  little  girls  who  often 
look  at  themselves  in  a  glass  would  finally  end  by  see- 
ing the  devil  in  it,  Irma  one  day  spent  several  successive 
hours  gazing  in  a  mirror  and  calling  up  his  satanic 
majesty.  She  used  to  say  that  she  did  this,  not  from 
the  desire  of  seeing  the  devil  but  of  frightening  one  of 
her  sisters  who,  shocked  at  her  audacity,  was  prostrate 
in  prayer,  pleading  fervently  for  her  conversion. 

The  same  sister  having  been  stricken  with  a  lingering 
and  painful  nervous  malady,  Irma  became  her  constant 
and  devoted  companion.  She  was  obliged  to  perform 
her  task  with  great  sweetness  and  amiability  and  to 
avoid  contradicting  her  in  anything.  At  first  she  ap- 
plied herself  to  this  duty  through  the  promise  of  a  very 
small  recompense,  but,  afterwards,  for  the  love  of  God. 
In  later  years  Irma  wrote:  "During  Pepa's  illness  I 
overcame  my  temper  for  two  cents  a  week,  which  was 
truly  very  cheap;  but  now  I  offer  this  impressionable 
character  to  Our  Lord,  that  He  may  employ  it  for  His 
glory."  It  can  be  said  that  after  Irma's  experience 
with  her  afflicted  sister  there  were  no  further  passionate 
outbreaks ;  but  her  obstinacy,  impatience,  and  capricious- 
ness  gave  place  to  a  warmth  of  imagination  and  a  vivac- 
ity of  manner  which  became  for  her  a  source  of  keen 
suffering  and  frequent  combats. 

Irma's  grandmother,  Madame  de  Ginguene,1  lived 
with  her  daughter,  Madame  le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  at 
Fours-a-Chaux.  She  was  aged  by  sorrow  rather  than 
by  years.  A  few  months  after  her  marriage  in  1790, 
Monsieur  de  Ginguene,  captain  of  a  regiment  from 
Picardy,  was  compelled  to  leave  her  in  order  to  defend 
his  God  and  his  king.  He  belonged  to  the  body  of 

i  Madame  de  Ginguen£  was  the  daughter  of  Monsieur  Talhouet  de  Brignac. 


4  FAULTS  OF  CHILDHOOD 

troops  that  entered  Quiberon,  and  was  one  of  those 
whom  the  Republicans  in  1793  treacherously  shot,  after 
having  promised  them  life. 

When  Madame  de  Ginguene  received  a  lock  of  his 
hair,  his  portrait  painted  for  her  while  he  was  in  prison, 
and  a  letter  conveying  his  last  adieus,  her  grief  was  in- 
describable. She  was  roused  from  this  prostrating  sor- 
row only  by  thoughts  of  such  hatred  and  revenge  that 
she  almost  wished  to  kill  with  her  own  hand  those  who 
had  decreed  the  death  of  her  husband.  Her  faith  and 
love  of  God,  however,  sustained  her  in  the  violence  of 
trial,  and  enabled  her  to  pardon  those  by  whom  she  had 
been  so  greatly  injured. 

She  had  one  child,  a  daughter,  on  whom  she  lavished 
all  her  love  and  tenderness.  Over  her  cradle  Madame 
de  Ginguene  gave  vent  to  her  grief  in  floods  of  tears; 
but  soon  even  this  consolation  was  to  be  taken  from  her. 
The  widow  of  a  royalist  could  not  escape  suspicion. 
She  was  torn  from  her  child,  dragged  to  prison,  and 
condemned  to  death  without  trial.  The  9th  Thermidor, 
however,  saved  her,  and  after  an  imprisonment  of  ten 
months,  she  was  freed,  though  her  health  was  entirely 
wrecked  by  the  sufferings  she  had  undergone.  With  a 
broken  heart  and  no  desire  for  a  second  marriage,  she 
devoted  the  remainder  of  her  life  to  the  education  of  her 
daughter  and  the  care  of  the  poor.  It  was  from  her 
that  Irma  received  her  first  lessons  in  Christian  charity. 

Madame  de  Ginguene  loved  to  associate  her  little 
granddaughters  with  her  in  her  good  works,  and  to  have 
them  bestow  the  alms  and  clothing  which  she  distributed 
among  the  unfortunate.  Sometimes,  as  a  reward  for 
good  behavior,  she  permitted  them  to  accompany  her  in 
her  visits  to  the  sick.  She  also  appointed  them  to  pre- 
side at  the  weekly  apportionment  of  work  to  poor 


MADAME  DE  GINGUENE  5 

women.  The  children  having  the  best  record  of  con- 
duct were  privileged  to  collect  the  alms  at  the  meetings 
of  the  Ladies  of  Charity  which  were  held  at  her  house. 

As  there  were  no  religious  at  Saint  Servan  during 
Irma's  childhood  to  take  care  of  the  sick  in  their  own 
homes,  a  number  of  devoted  ladies  banded  together 
with  Madame  de  Ginguene  as  directress,  and  divided 
among  themselves  the  different  quarters  of  the  city, 
where  they  visited  the  sick  and  needy.  But  the  poor 
being  numerous,  many  of  the  pious  ladies  succumbed 
under  this  self-imposed  task,  and  Madame  de  Ginguene, 
whilst  sustaining  and  encouraging  them,  took  active 
measures  to  procure  some  religious  who  would  relieve 
them  of  their  charge.  A  short  time  before  her  death 
she  had  the  consolation  of  seeing  four  Sisters  of  Provi- 
dence established  at  Saint  Servan.  Little  did  she  think 
that  Irma  would  one  day  become  a  member  of  this  com- 
munity. 

Madame  de  Ginguene  also  taught  her  grandchildren 
sacred  history,  and  when,  during  the  winter  hours,  they 
would  group  around  her  beside  the  fire  and  ask  her  to 
tell  them  a  pretty  story,  she  would  reply,  "My  children, 
I  will  tell  you  a  story  which  will  be  very  beautiful,  for 
it  will  be  true" ;  and  the  children  would  listen  with  rapt 
attention  to  the  admirable  and  touching  stories  of  the 
Old  Testament,  which  she  so  well  knew  how  to  arrange 
and  adapt  to  their  youthful  minds.  Irma,  more  than 
any  of  her  brothers  and  sisters,  retained  the  impression 
of  these  first  lessons.  The  Holy  Scriptures  were  al- 
ways her  delight,  and  when  in  after  years  the  education 
of  her  brothers  was  entrusted  to  her,  it  was  a  great 
happiness  to  make  them  study  and  love  the  Sacred 
Writings. 

Irma  attended  school  but  for  a  short  time.     She  was 


6  CONTROVERSIES— FIRST  COMMUNION 

sent  to  an  old  maiden  lady  who  received  as  students 
both  French  Catholics  and  English  Protestants.  It  is 
not  easy  to  realize  how  greatly  excited  the  young  people 
became  over  their  religious  differences.  They  passed 
the  hours  of  recreation,  and  also  the  time  which  should 
have  been  devoted  to  study,  in  controversy.  Irma,  al- 
though the  youngest,  was  not  the  least  zealous.  She 
had  become  much  attached  to  a  charming  young  English 
lady,  several  years  her  senior,  who  had  given  her  many 
proofs  of  affection.  She  ardently  desired  the  con- 
version of  Miss  Matilda  C ,  and  to  this  end  she  al- 
ternately employed  prayers,  caresses,  and  the  arguments 
of  the  catechism.  Although  it  was  not  the  moment  for 
grace  to  speak  to  the  heart  of  Matilda,  the  germ  of  that 
zeal  which  Irma  in  after  life  exercised  in  behalf  of  souls 
could  already  be  discerned. 

The  time  of  Irma's  First  Holy  Communion  was  ap- 
proaching, and  Madame  le  Fer,  like  all  good  Christian 
mothers,  prepared  her  with  the  greatest  possible  care 
for  this  sublime  action.  A  short  time  before  the  day 
fixed  for  this  important  act  of  her  life  Irma  was  taken 
seriously  ill,  and  it  was  feared  her  happiness  would  have 
to  be  postponed.  God,  however,  heard  her  prayers  and 
those  of  her  family,  and  she  recovered  sufficiently  even 
to  make  the  preparatory  retreat. 

In  speaking  of  her  daughter's  First  Communion, 
Madame  le  Fer  wrote: 

With  what  happiness  I  presented  her  to  her  venerable 
grandparents  to  receive  their  blessing !  Her  father  and 
I  added  ours,  while  shedding  sweet  tears,  the  prelude  of 
still  sweeter  ones.  On  that  beautiful  morning,  what  joy 
was  mine  while  clothing  my  little  Irma  in  her  white  gar- 
ments, symbols  of  the  innocence  adorning  her  heart! 
What  tender  kisses  the  family  pressed  upon  her  lovely 


MARKED  CHANGE  OF  CHARACTER       7 

young  face,  sweet  mirror  of  the  sentiments  of  her  pure 
soul !  Oh !  what  a  moment  for  a  Christian  mother  who 
beholds  her  child  for  the  first  time  approaching  the  God 
of  angels !  She  forgets  all  the  pain  it  has  cost  her. 

We  have  thus  offered  all  our  children  to  the  Lord,  and 
the  joy  of  so  doing  is  ever  new  and  undiminished,  be- 
cause each  child  God  sends  us  is  as  dear  as  the  preceding 
ones.  For  all  there  are  smiles  and  caresses.  Parental 
affection  is  a  reflex  of  divine  love,  borrowing  from  it  this 
privilege,  that,  though  divided,  it  is  not  lessened.  The 
Benjamin  of  a  large  family  is  cherished  like  an  Isaac, 
and  the  offering  of  him  to  the  Lord  procures  for  the 
parents  new  merits  and  new  joys. 

Thanks,  my  God,  thanks  for  all!  Each  one  has  given 
us  on  this  day  the  same  consolation.  We  remember 
with  tenderness  their  pious  disquiets  of  conscience,  their 
tears  in  coming  from  the  sacred  tribunal  of  penance, 
their  innocent  and  pure  joy  of  heart.  One  of  them 
could  not  sleep  on  the  eve  of  this  great  day,  fearing  to 
die  before  receiving  our  divine  Lord.  And  happy 
changes  have  taken  place  in  the  character  of  our  dear 
children,  whose  future  sometimes  had  caused  us  great 
anxiety.  The  faults  which  once  alarmed  us  have  given 
way  to  virtues  that  God  has  caused  to  take  root  in  their 
young  hearts. 

The  second  time  Irma  received  Holy  Communion,  she 
appreciated  her  happiness  more  fully.  She  was  more 
deeply  penetrated  with  the  wondrous  graces  Jesus  be- 
stowed on  her  in  the  Holy  Eucharist,  towards  which,  as 
we  shall  see,  she  ever  after  had  a  special  attraction.  A 
marked  change  now  took  place  in  her  character.  Her 
heart  seemed  filled  with  piety  towards  God,  and  kindness 
and  affection  for  her  family.  There  was  also  a  rapid 
transition  from  childhood  to  maturity. 

Before  completing  her  thirteenth  year  she  experienced 
much  happiness  in  being  chosen  the  godmother  of  her 
little  sister  Clementine.  To  have  the  older  members 


8  IRMA  AS  GODMOTHER 

of  the  family  become  sponsors  for  the  younger  is  a  sure 
means  of  strengthening  the  bonds  of  affection  uniting 
brothers  and  sisters.  Irma  was  so  happy  and  proud 
because  of  the  honor  conferred  upon  her,  that  no  eleventh 
child  of  a  family  could  have  been  more  joyfully  greeted 
than  this  one  was.  Referring  to  the  occasion,  Irma 
wrote : 

Once  I  was  very  happy.  I  was  thirteen  years  old  and 
was  chosen  to  be  godmother.  I  was  told  that  I  had  a 
little  sister.  I  leaped  for  joy.  I  rushed  to  the  window 
and  placed  there  a  pretty  white  flag,  so  that  my  cousin 
Henri  could  see  it  from  afar  and  know  my  happiness. 
As  he  was  selected  to  be  godfather,  he  brought  me  a 
superb  basket  of  fruit.  This  was  certainly  very  kind 
and  generous.  He  gave  me  his  arm  to  escort  me  to 
church,  and  on  the  way  we  chatted  together  and  formed 
plans  for  the  education  of  our  godchild.  On  approach- 
ing the  church,  however,  our  thoughts  took  a  more  seri- 
ous turn,  and,  notwithstanding  my  youth,  I  offered  my 
little  Clementine  to  God,  praying  Him  to  take  her  after 
her  baptism  rather  than  permit  her  to  tarnish  the  purity 
of  her  beautiful  white  robe.  She  cried  so  during  the 
ceremony  that  I  feared  God  was  going  to  take  her  from 
me  that  very  first  day  of  her  entrance  into  the  world. 
Oh!  strange  life  of  ours,  miserable  life,  which  begins 
and  ends  with  tears. 


CHAPTER  II 

YOUTH — VICISSITUDES — NEW   DUTIES — HOME-LIFE 

THE  revolution  of  July,  1830,  was  a  time  of  trial 
to  Irma's  family.  The  new  government  sup- 
pressed the  pensions  hitherto  obtained  by  her 
mother  and  grandmother,  the  one  as  daughter,  the  other 
as  widow  of  one  of  the  refugees  massacred  at  Quiberon. 
Monsieur  le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  having  refused  to  take  an 
oath  which  he  considered  contrary  to  his  conscience,  lost 
his  position.  It  was  necessary  in  consequence  to  reduce 
expenses.  The  elder  daughters  were  obliged  to  supply 
the  places  of  the  maids,  whom  the  family  could  no  longer 
retain.  Irma,  who  had  no  aptitude  either  for  sewing  or 
for  household  duties,  was  charged  with  the  care  of  her 
little  goddaughter,  and  was  also  made  the  teacher  of  her 
younger  brothers.  She  was  well  qualified  for  her  new 
position.  Her  natural  attraction  for  study  rendered  the 
task  of  instructing  easy  and  pleasant,  and  she  gave  her- 
self to  it  devotedly,  enthusiastically,  sacrificing  in  favor 
of  her  young  pupils  her  taste,  or  rather  her  passion,  for 
study  and  writing.  She  was  an  excellent  preceptress, 
but  a  poor  disciplinarian;  while  giving  a  lesson  to  one 
pupil  she  would  become  so  engrossed  as  not  to  notice  the 
others  escaping  into  the  garden  to  have  a  good  time.  To 
be  able  to  understand  the  Office  of  the  Church,  and  also 
to  make  herself  more  useful  to  her  brothers,  she  studied 
Latin;  and  this  with  such  eagerness  that  her  master 
was  often  obliged  to  moderate  her  ardor. 

Referring  to  this  period  of  their  family  life,  Irma 


10  FAMILY  PRACTICES 

wrote  to  Mademoiselle  Marie  le  M ,  one  of  her 

young  friends  living  at  Rennes : 

You  have  not  dared  to  visit  us,  because  you  dread  the 
seductions  of  the  world.  I  thank  God  that  He  has  in- 
spired you  with  so  great  a  fear  of  its  dangers  that  you 
are  even  ready  to  sacrifice  the  pleasure  of  ever  seeing  me 
again.  It  is  thus  we  should  act.  God  cannot  be  placed 
in  the  balance  with  the  world.  For  Him  we  should  be 
willing  to  leave  country,  family,  all,  and  ourselves.  But 
in  approving  your  sentiments  I  am  happy  to  say  you 
may  come  without  fear.  You  are  mistaken  in  thinking 
we  lead  a  worldly  life ;  our  home  is  even  called  a  convent, 
and  no  gossip  from  the  outside  world  reaches  us ;  we  are 
often  ridiculed  for  our  simplicity.  You  may  object  to 
our  large  family.  It  is  true  we  are  many,  and  during 
vacation  there  is  a  great  deal  of  noise.  The  children 
laugh,  play,  and  scream  in  their  amusements.  This  may 
make  the  head  ache,  but  it  does  not  trouble  the  heart. 
Our  friends  are  very  pious ;  my  father's  family  is  exem- 
plary. Every  morning  we  all — father,  mother,  children 
and  servants  assist  at  Mass;  in  the  afternoon  we  sing 
hymns  and  say  the  beads ;  toward  evening  we  often  go  to 
the  church  to  pray  for  half  an  hour;  before  supper  we 
have  some  pious  reading,  and  before  retiring  we  recite 
evening  prayers  in  common.  Such  is  the  interior  of  a 
home  that  you  believe  dangerous! 

When  we  meet  next  year  I  think  you  will  be  delighted 
with  us.  Perhaps  you  smile  at  my  simplicity.  No 
matter.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  charmed  by  intimate 
association  with  people  who  think  as  you  do,  and  who 
frankly  exchange  their  thoughts.  I  am  so  happy  in  my 
family  that  it  seems  to  me  any  one  would  regret  leav- 
ing it. 

The  house  in  which  Irma  so  sweetly  passed  her  youth 
is  situated  on  a  hillside  bordering  the  Ranee,  and  com- 
mands a  distant  view  of  the  English  Channel.  The 
site  is  delightful.  The  river  makes  capricious  bends, 


THE  RANGE  AND  THE  SEA  11 

and  its  tranquil  waters,  like  a  faithful  mirror,  reflect  the 
clouds  in  their  various  forms  and  colors.  The  silvery 
moon,  in  calm  summer  evenings,  lends  its  gentle  rays, 
replacing  with  mild  light  the  rosy  hues  of  the  setting 
sun  as  it  sinks  beneath  the  waters.  Many  travelers 
have  sung  the  praises  of  the  Ranee,  but  its  charms  were 
enjoyed  by  none  more  than  Irma.  She  loved  its  mys- 
terious murmurs,  and  listened  with  delight  to  the 
rippling  of  the  waves  as  their  sparkling  and  snowy  foam 
dashed  lightly  against  the  rocks  along  its  banks.  Some- 
times as  she  heard  the  distant  fury  of  the  raging  ocean, 
she  would  reflect,  "What  a  contrast  between  the  smiling 
azure  waters  of  the  Ranee  and  the  sublimity  and  depth 
of  the  vast  sea!  Is  not  this  an  image  of  life,  which  at 
the  beginning  presents  to  our  view  a  cradle  surrounded 
by  flowers  and  smiles,  and  at  the  close,  a  tomb  where  the 
deep  voice  of  death  will  call  us  into  eternity?" 

Since  the  impressions  which  the  senses  receive  have 
much  to  do  in  forming  the  heart,  it  is  not  astonishing 
that  the  imagination  of  this  young  girl  was  stamped  with 
the  seal  of  a  poetic  and  religious  melancholy.  Scenes  of 
nature  elevated  her  soul  to  God  and  inspired  her  with  the 
pious  thoughts  everywhere  found  in  her  letters. 

The  lovely  environment  of  Saint  Servan  had  for  her  a 
thousand  attractions.  When  the  weather  was  pleasant, 
the  family  and  friends  took  long  walks.  Irma,  ob- 
servant and  recollected,  silently  enjoyed  the  landscape 
unfolding  itself  before  her.  The  fields  of  golden  grain, 
enameled  with  the  brilliant  colors  of  cornflowers,  Easter 
daisies,  and  poppies;  the  sprays  of  wayside  moss;  the 
insects,  concealed  under  bushes  laden  with  opening 
roses;  the  vivifying  heat,  the  songs  of  the  birds,  the 
rustling  of  the  leaves,  and  the  murmur  of  the  waters, 
ravished  her  virginal  heart  and  caused  a  new  life  to  stir 


IMMACULATE  HEART 
NOVITIATE 

JL  i       —  --^'  -—  "~ 


12  LOVE  OF  NATURE 

within  it.  Irma's  expansive  and  grateful  nature  would 
call  on  intelligent  creatures  to  join  in  praising  the 
Author  of  these  wonders.  Addressing  her  companions 
she  would  say :  "Aid  me  to  bless  Jesus ;  my  voice  is  too 
weak,  my  heart  too  little.  Let  us  unite,  for  drops  of 
water  form  the  rivers,  grains  compose  the  sheaves,  voices 
give  harmony,  stars  make  the  beauty  of  the  firmament, 
souls  are  the  delight  of  Jesus,  and  Jesus  is  the  Word, 
who  sends  His  light  and  His  divine  sweetness  through 
the  transparency  of  creation." 

The  days  spent  in  the  country,  the  walks  in  summer, 
and  the  evening  reunions  with  the  neighboring  families 
were  not  Irma's  only  diversions.  The  holy  patrons  of 
the  fathers  and  mothers  of  the  family  were  joyously 
feasted.  Saint  Joseph's  Day  had,  above  all  other  days 
of  the  year,  its  peculiar  solemnity.  Madame  le  Fer  de  la 
Motte,  Irma's  grandmother,  who  was  born  in  Spain,  bore 
the  name  of  Pepa,  a  Spanish  abbreviation  of  Joseph. 
On  the  19th  of  March  the  children  and  grandchildren 
assembled  at  Lorette J  to  celebrate  the  feast  of  her  great 
patron.  All  responded  with  joy  to  the  call,  and  each 
offered  flowers  to  the  dear  grandmother.  The  older 
ones  added  needlework  made  for  the  occasion.  Irma's 
piece  was  never  finished,  but  she  presented  the  part 
begun,  concealing  the  other  under  the  flowers,  very  cer- 
tain that  on  so  joyous  a  day  she  would  escape  reproach. 

For  the  younger  members  of  the  joyous  band,  the 
dinner  which  was  more  elaborate  than  usual,  and  the 
bounty  of  the  dear  grandmother,  constituted  the  best 
part  of  the  day;  but  Madame  de  la  Motte's  greatest 
pleasure  came  from  the  verses  sung  in  her  honor 

i  Lorette  was  the  name  of  the  home  of  the  elder  Madame  le  Fer.  The 
beautiful  estate  of  Lorette  is  situated  on  the  Rennes  highway  about  three 
quarters  of  a  mile  from  Saint  Servan. 


LOVE  OF  NATURE  13 

by  her  grandchildren.     One  year  they  sang  the  follow- 
ing: 

This    happy   day,    loved    Grandmamma, 

We've  all  assembled  here 
To  celebrate  our  yearly  feast, 

To  us  so  very  dear. 

You  are  a  great  protecting  tree, 

We,  like  young  tender  vines; 
And  round  you,  dearest  grandmamma, 

Each  growing  tendril  twines. 

Beneath  your  sweet  maternal  shade 

We  daily  shall  grow  strong, 
By  you  we  shall  be  sheltered 

From  storms  however  long. 

Our  parents  by  your  kindly  aid, 

Have  drawn  from  Wisdom's  fount, 
Which  gave  to  them  fresh  vigor 

To  climb  Perfection's  mount. 

We,  branchlets  of  those  blessed  vines, 

Shall  by  our  actions  tell 
From  age  to  age  the  virtues 

You  practiced  here  so  well. 

Certainly  the  rules  of  versification  were  not  rigorously 
observed,  nor  were  the  voices  always  harmonious ;  but  as 
the  tender  sentiments  expressed  by  cherished  children 
never  fail  to  find  an  echo  in  the  hearts  of  mothers,  the 
good  grandmamma  listened  to  these  stanzas  with  much 
emotion.  After  the  mirthful  band  had  run  off  to  play 
in  the  garden  she  asked  her  son  Henri,1  the  poet  of  the 
family,  to  compose  a  response  for  her  dear  children. 
He  immediately  improvised  some  lines,  which  she  sang 
on  their  return  as  well  as  her  eighty  years  would  permit. 

Your  tender,  sweet  attention 

My  old  age  charms  and  cheers; 
The  presence  of  my  children 

Makes  me  forget  my  years. 

i  Monsieur  Henri,  later  officer  of  the  Royal  Guards,  was  ordinarily  called 
Henri  de  la  Motte  to  distinguish  him  from  his  older  brother  Charles,  who  was 
simply  called  Le  Fer. 


14.  FEAST  DAY  CELEBRATIONS 

May  God  reward  you  sweetly 

For  all  your  love,  I  pray! 
I  would  this  feast  so  happy 

Could  recommence  each  day. 

Once  or  twice  every  week  the  children  of  Monsieur 
Charles  le  Fer  took  the  large  drawing-room  of  Lorette 
by  storm.  The  younger  ones,  after  hastily  embracing 
their  aunts  and  cousins,  would  immediately  gather  round 
their  grandmamma  and  ask  her,  with  all  the  simplicity  of 
their  age,  to  amuse  them;  then  the  good  old  grand- 
mother, taking  off  her  spectacles  and  touching  her  eyes, 
would  say,  "My  children,  have  you  ever  seen  eyes  ninety 
years  old?"  "Oh!  no,  grandmamma."  "Well,  look  at 
mine."  (And  what  affection  and  gayety  in  those  eyes !) 
Then  she  would  pass  to  her  nose  and  to  her  mouth ;  after 
that  she  would  search  her  pockets  and  show  a  thimble, 
a  pair  of  scissors,  and  a  needlecase  of  antiquated  style; 
and  finally,  to  end  the  sport,  she  would  put  into  the 
hand  of  each  a  little  piece  of  money,  and  then  the 
children  would  go  away  satisfied.  In  this  drawing-room 
on  New  Year's  Day,  the  gifts  were  always  distributed. 
The  children  formed  a  circle  around  the  large  table,  on 
which  the  grandmamma  and  their  three  aunts x  displayed 
sugar-plums  and  bonbons  of  different  forms.  The 
eldest  chose  first.  This  privilege  drew  sighs  from  the 
younger  ones  as  they  saw  the  coveted  objects  disappear; 
but  grandmamma's  pockets  had  a  double  lining,  and 
sugar  turtle-doves  and  chocolate  sabots  restored  happi- 
ness to  those  who  had  been  less  fortunate  in  the  drawing. 
On  this  day,  also,  the  children  and  grandchildren  of 

i  The  family  of  the  dowager  of  Lorette  was  composed  of  Monsieur  Charles, 
her  eldest  son,  Irma's  father;  Mesdemoiselles  Marie  and  Jeanne,  her  two 
eldest  daughters,  who  were  not  married;  Monsieur  Henri,  her  second  son, 
who  married  Mademoiselle  Grout  de  Rivieres,  by  whom  he  had  six  children; 
finally,  her  last  child,  Cecile,  the  widow  of  Monsieur  de  la  Salic,  who  had 
three  children  and  lived  with  her  mother.  Madame  le  Fer  de  la  Motte  had 
five  children  and  twenty-one  grandchildren. 


MADAME  DE  LA  MOTTE  15 

Madame  de  la  Motte  received  pieces  of  money  in  num- 
ber equal  to  their  respective  years.  Ah !  if  the  Fountain 
of  Youth  could  have  poured  its  marvelous  waters  plenti- 
fully into  the  basin  of  Lorette,  not  one,  even  among 
the  older  children,  would  have  made  use  of  it.  These 
children  with  youthful,  blooming  faces,  longingly  de- 
sired years;  but  when  years  came  the  generous  grand- 
mother and  her  compensations  were  gone. 

Time  and  absence  did  not  take  from  Irma  the  pleasant 
and  cherished  remembrances  of  these  family  reunions. 
We  shall  find  frequent  references  to  them  in  her  remi- 
niscences. 

Though  the  grandmother  was  so  happy  in  the  sunset 
of  life,  she  had  known  days  of  sorrow  and,  during  the 
Reign  of  Terror,  intense  sufferings.  Left  a  widow 
while  still  very  young,  with  five  little  children,  she  lived 
for  a  long  time  in  the  constant  apprehension  of  being 
parted  from  them,  taken  to  prison,  and  thence  to  the 
scaffold.  The  Republic,  however,  generously  contented 
itself  with  cutting  down  her  trees,  gathering  her  har- 
vests, and  taking  the  rent  of  her  farm;  but  it  left  her 
to  those  dear  children  who  were  often  in  want  of  bread 
and  clothing.  In  this  distress  the  poor  mother  yielded 
to  a  weakness  for  which  she  afterwards  reproached  her- 
self bitterly.  She  sent  her  servants  once  or  twice  to  the 
Decade  to  procure  bread.  But  of  those  evil  days  there 
remained  in  later  years  only  the  remembrance.  She 
enjoyed  good  health  until  a  very  advanced  age;  and 
being  surrounded  by  the  respect  and  affection  of  every 
one,  she  sometimes  feared  that  her  happiness  on  earth 
was  too  great. 


CHAPTER  III 

A  FRIEND 

THOUGH  Irma  found  joys  delicious  and  sincere 
in  her  family,  though  she  knew  how  to  gain  and 
preserve  the  affections  of  all  the  companions  of 
her  childhood  (and  they  never  ceased  giving  her  proofs 
of  their  attachment) ,  yet  she  sought  the  treasure  praised 
in  Holy  Writ — a  true  friend.  She  wished  through  an 
intimate  friendship  to  secure  a  heart  capable  of  under- 
standing all  her  aspirations.  Such  a  one  she  hoped  to 
find  in  a  young  relative  whose  family  was  closely  united 
to  hers,  more  by  the  ties  of  affection  than  of  blood.  Her 
name  was  Angelina  Payan.  Angelina  was  the 
youngest  of  her  family,  the  favorite  of  all,  and  very 
much  spoiled,  as  everybody  endeavored  to  gratify  her 
every  desire.  Solid  Christian  principles  and  a  charming 
disposition  preserved  her  from  conceit,  but  she  was  a 
stranger  to  that  devotedness  of  heart  which  makes  one 
forget  herself  for  others.  Though  not  beautiful,  she 
was  exceedingly  graceful,  gay,  and  amiable;  she  was 
passionately  fond  of  birds,  flowers,  the  sea,  and  all  the 
beauties  of  nature,  and  she  knew  how  to  embellish  them 
with  all  the  charms  of  a  vivid  imagination.  Irma  at- 
tached herself  with  all  the  ardor  of  her  soul  to  this  friend 
whose  tastes  agreed  so  well  with  her  own.  With  ex- 
quisite simplicity  she  said  to  her,  "My  dear  Angelina, 
I  must  be  loved;  it  is  a  necessity  for  me  to  love  and  be 
loved;  without  this  there  is  no  happiness  for  me." 

16 


EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS  17 

This  friendship  was  not  sterile,  for  Irma  endeavored 
to  impart  the  sentiments  of  faith  which  filled  her  own 
heart  to  her  friend  who  was  serving  God  more  through 
fear  than  love.  In  one  of  her  letters  she  says: 

Often  since  our  last  interview  I  have  reflected  on  your 
character  and  thought  of  the  diverse  impulses  of  your 
heart.  Alas!  I  am  a  thousand  times  more  guilty  than 
you  are,  Almighty  God  having  given  me  a  soul  which 
feels  so  keenly  His  innumerable  benefits.  He  has  made 
me  to  know  His  divine  love  and  feel  the  ineffable  de- 
lights of  His  grace.  Dear  Angelina,  when  I  contem- 
plate a  God  made  man  for  me  and  born  in  a  stable,  when 
I  see  His  Precious  Blood  gushing  from  His  Divine 
Heart,  mine  becomes  deeply  moved,  and  I  feel  that  I 
must  love  Him  who  has  loved  me  to  such  an  excess. 

She  adds: 

I  send  you  a  little  landscape  to  which  I  have  given  a 
stormy  sky,  but  I  desire  that  you  may  have  no  other 
tempests  than  those  which  raise  the  waves  of  the  sea,  no 
other  storms  than  those  which  disturb  the  peace  of  na- 
ture. I  hope  that  henceforth  we  shall  employ  our  happy 
moments  only  in  inciting  each  other  to  walk  constantly 
in  the  path  of  virtue,  and  that  the  joy  of  meeting  may 
renew  our  courage.  We  must  will  what  God  wills ;  and 
as  He  wills  that  I  love  you,  you  can  imagine  the  affection 
of  your  Irma. 

Again  she  writes  to  her  dear  Angelina : 

If  you  only  knew  how  beautiful  the  sea  was  last  even- 
ing! It  was  high,  very  high;  it  surrounded  the  cottage 
near  the  road.  The  boat  we  were  in,  though  tied  to  the 
shore,  was  tossed  by  the  waves.  To-day  we  have  high 
tide,  and  this  evening  we  intend  going  to  the  beach  again. 
How  I  wish  you  were  here  to  share  our  pleasure !  I  beg 
you,  I  entreat  you,  to  come.  My  mother  bids  me  invite 
you.  Do  come.  And  prepare  yourself;  you  will  need 


18  EARLY  FRIENDSHIPS 

to  be  calm.  In  the  midst  of  the  waves  our  blood  will 
course  through  our  veins  like  the  white  foam  against  the 
rocks ;  but  you  will  remember  that  it  is  God  who  created 
this  vast  sea,  and  who  in  His  goodness  has  placed  us  so 
near  this  beautiful  ocean.  We  shall  be  surrounded  by 
God's  immensity,  we  shall  rejoice  and  find  pleasure,  but 
like  children  in  the  arms  of  their  father. 

In  another  letter  Irma  wrote: 

Angelina,  what  a  pretty  name  you  have,  how  sweet  to 
pronounce!  Perhaps  you  do  not  know  that  in  Messrs. 
O 'Murphy's  large  grounds  across  from  ours  there  is  a 
fine  echo.  Sometimes  I  go  and  play  with  it,  for  we  are 
old  friends.  Instead  of  receiving  me  into  its  dwelling, 
it  runs  at  the  first  sound  of  my  voice.  The  names  I 
loudly  call  are  "Jesus,"  "Mary";  then  those  of  my  par- 
ents. Your  turn  comes ;  the  echo  expects  it,  desires  it. 
Slowly  and  with  sweet  expression  I  say,  "Angelina,  An- 
gelina," and  it  repeats  with  the  same  tenderness,  "Ange- 
lina," "An-ge-li-na."  I  lower  my  voice  a  little — it  imi- 
tates me ;  I  take  a  softer  tone — it  yields  to  my  caprice. 
My  voice  dies  away — the  echo  vanishes.  O  the  delicious 
moment!  All  is  silent  around  me,  night  approaches, 
and  the  birds  that  hushed  their  songs  to  listen  to  us,  now 
go  to  sleep  with  sweet  recollections.  Then  I  place  a 
finger  on  my  lips,  another  on  my  heart,  and  I  hear  an 
echo  more  faithful  and  more  intelligent  than  that  of 
Rivoli,1  for  it  repeats  the  thought.  Dear  Angelina,  you 
can  guess  the  name  that  the  echo  of  friendship  repeats  to 
me,  and  will  repeat  to  me  all  my  life,  without  weariness 
on  its  part  or  lassitude  on  mine.  Come,  then,  come  with 
me,  and  you  will  also  say  my  name.  It  is  that  of  the 
Queen  of  Angels.  We  shall  forget  ourselves  to  think 
only  of  this  divine  Mother,  and  with  the  echo  we  shall 
have  three  voices  to  say  Vive,  Marie! 

i  Rivoli,  the  name  of  Messrs.  O'Murphy's  broad  estate.  The  owners,  as 
kind  as  they  were  obliging,  left  it  for  the  use  of  Monsieur  le  Fer's  large 
family.  Irma  and  Angelina  had  erected  a  little  grotto-chapel  in  one  of  its 
most  picturesque  spots. 


REVERIES— FAILING  HEALTH  19 

These  two  young  girls,  so  richly  endowed  with  imagi- 
nation, may  have  too  freely  indulged  this  power  which, 
with  them,  needed  special  restraint  and  direction.  Irma 
kept  up  a  regular  correspondence  with  Angelina,  not- 
withstanding their  almost  daily  meetings.  This  too 
lavish  effusion  of  the  heart  was,  later  on,  a  source  of 
danger  and  suffering  for  her.  Domestic  occupations 
became  insupportable;  she  wished  to  spend  her  life  in 
reading,  writing,  drawing,  and  idle  dreaming.  She 
created  imaginary  griefs  in  order  to  enjoy  the  sweetness 
of  weeping  over  them.  She  did  not  read  romances,  but 
every  object,  every  person,  furnished  her  with  a  theme 
for  composing  one. 

While  her  companions  were  enjoying  noisy  plays 
which  wearied  her,  she  would  retire  to  a  terrace  on  the 
border  of  the  river,  and  there,  listening  to  the  monoto- 
nous and  regular  murmur  of  the  waves  dying  softly  at 
her  feet,  she  would  lapse  into  a  vague  and  enfeebling 
sadness. 

This  state  of  reverie,  however,  did  not  degenerate 
into  bad  humor.  When  Irma  returned  to  real  life  it 
was  to  show  amiability,  goodness,  and  attention  to  her 
family.  She  neglected  neither  the  care  of  her  little 
sister  nor  the  education  of  her  brothers,  and  she  fulfilled 
her  Christian  duties  with  exactness;  yet  her  piety  un- 
consciously weakened.  Though  God  demanded  her 
whole  heart,  she  allowed  herself  to  be  led  by  the  vagaries 
of  that  imagination  which  she  knew  she  should  restrain, 
but  to  which  she  found  it  easier  and  sweeter  to  yield. 
She  glided  down  this  rapid  declivity  without  having 
courage  to  stop,  much  less  to  retrace  her  steps.  Meals 
and  sleep  taken  at  regular  hours  were  a  burden  which 
she  wished  she  could  lay  down.  She  contented  herself 
with  some  light  food,  and,  though  she  retired  at  the  hour 


SO  SOJOURN  AT  LORETTE 

prescribed,  she  prolonged  her  watchings  during  a  great 
part  of  the  night.  Her  health  began  visibly  to  decline, 
and  she  soon  became  a  cause  of  much  anxiety  to  her 
family. 

Madame  le  Fer  was  afflicted  at  the  state  of  her 
daughter's  health,  which  became  more  enfeebled  every 
day;  but,  engrossed  with  the  care  of  her  younger 
children,  she  did  not  suspect  that  Irma's  illness  might 
have  a  moral  cause.  She  compelled  her  to  follow  all  the 
prescriptions  of  the  physician;  but  these  had  no  satis- 
factory effect,  because  they  did  not  reach  the  source  of 
the  trouble.  It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  a 
sister  of  Monsieur  le  Fer,  Madame  de  la  Salle,  asked 
for  Irma,  purposing  to  care  for  both  mind  and  body. 
Irma  gladly  accepted  her  aunt's  invitation  to  spend  some 
time  at  Lorette,  the  country-seat  of  her  father's  family, 
which  had  taken  its  name  from  a  little  chapel 1  situated 
on  the  estate. 

i  This  sanctuary  is  the  first  station  in  the  pilgrimage  to  Our  Lady  of  Saint 
Jouan.  The  sailors  of  Brittany  who  annually  depart  for  Newfoundland 
are,  during  their  voyage,  frequently  assailed  by  violent  tempests,  which 
shiver  their  masts,  rend  their  sails,  and  threaten  to  engulf  them.  In  this 
imminent  danger,  the  old  Breton  faith  of  the  sailors  revives.  They  re- 
member Mary,  the  Star  of  the  Sea,  and  for  an  instant  their  trembling  voices 
prevail  over  the  roaring  of  the  waves  and  the  fury  of  the  tempest.  They 
solemnly  promise  her,  if  she  save  them  from  shipwreck,  to  go  barefooted, 
clad  in  white,  to  thank  her  at  Notre  Dame  de  Saint  Jouan;  and  when  the 
Queen  of  Heaven  has  heard  their  humble  and  confident  prayer,  when  she 
has  lovingly  smiled  on  them  and  brought  them  safe  to  port,  they  never  forget 
their  vow. 

The  first  station  on  their  pilgrimage  is  Our  Lady  of  Loretto.  These 
hardy  sailors,  with  swarthy  complexions  and  muscular  limbs,  show  in  their 
expressive  countenances  the  sentiments  of  faith  and  gratitude  with  which 
their  hearts  are  penetrated.  When  the  priest  who  conducts  them  intones  the 
Litany  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  all,  with  one  vibrating  and  energetic 
voice,  sing  this  pious  and  beautiful  chant,  when  mothers  and  children  mingle 
their  tears  and  accents  with  those  of  the  poor  sailors  no  one  can  remain 
insensible  to  this  touching  spectacle;  no  one  can  leave  it  without  a  renewal 
of  confidence  in  Mary,  who  is  so  truly  called  Auxilium  Christianorum,  Con- 
golatrix  Afflictorum.  The  26th  of  October,  1878,  two  hundred  men  on  board 
the  Atlas,  having  escaped  a  terrible  tempest  which  carried  off  under  their 
eyes  four  captains,  went  to  Loretto  to  accomplish  their  vow,  and  had  two 


ABBE  CARDONNET  21 

We  have  said  that  Irma's  venerable  grandmother, 
Madame  le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  lived  at  Lorette  with  her 
three  daughters;  two  of  these  were  not  married,  and 
they  consecrated  their  lives  to  good  works.1  Madame 
de  la  Salle  was  a  widow  with  three  children,  Cecile, 
Henri,  and  Marie,2  all  younger  than  Irma  who  loved 
them  almost  as  much  as  she  did  her  own  brothers  and 
sisters.  Abbe  Cardonnet,  whom  she  will  frequently 
mention,  lived  at  Lorette  as  a  preceptor,  a  chaplain,  and 
especially  as  a  friend. 

Brilliant  in  mind,  this  estimable  priest  possessed  also 
profound  learning  and  enlightened  piety,  which  moder- 
ated in  his  character  whatever  was  too  ardent.  Irma 
entrusted  to  him  the  direction  of  her  soul,  and  God 
granted  her  a  precious  grace  in  giving  her  a  guide  who, 
understanding  her,  did  not  try  to  stifle  her  imagination, 
but  employed  all  his  efforts  to  direct  it  and  to  turn  it 
to  God.  Abbe  Cardonnet  was  sincerely  interested  in 
Irma,  and  he  contributed  more  than  any  one  else  to  make 
her  return  to  the  realities  of  life,  to  her  family,  and  to 
God.  Later  she  was  grateful  for  all  he  had  done  for 
her,  but,  at  the  time  of  which  we  now  speak,  it  was  not 
thus.  She  did  not  thank  him  for  conspiring  with  her 
family  to  allure  her  from  the  charm  of  her  reveries, 
though  he  did  it  by  engaging  her  in  work  she  liked  to 
do.  Her  Latin  was  continued  under  his  direction.  She 
also  attended  the  lessons  which  a  professor  of  drawing 
gave  to  her  cousins.  Her  father  visited  her  daily.  She 

Masses  celebrated,  one  of  requiem  and  one  of  thanksgiving.  I  read  in 
the  Journal:  "Finally  they  reached  the  humble  sanctuary  of  Notre  Dame 
de  Lorette,  which  the  ivy  envelops  in  a  mantle  of  perpetual  green.  The 
remembrance  of  this  little  chapel  by  the  sailors  of  our  shore  is  as  faithful 
as  its  poetic  foliage." 

1  About  1830  Monsieur  Henri  de  la  Motte  gave  up  his  military  career  and 
for  many  years  he  and  his  family  lived  also  at  his  mother's  home. 

2  Later  Madame  Vittu  de  Kerraoul. 


22  DEATH  OF  ANGELINA 

frequently  saw  her  mother,  brothers,  and  sisters.  Not 
only  her  family,  but  her  aunts  and  their  friends  also  sur- 
rounded her  with  affectionate  care,  and,  without  annoy- 
ing her,  tried  to  make  her  life  pleasant.  She  was  free 
to  enjoy  the  charms  of  the  country,  of  which  she  was 
enthusiastically  fond.  Well-chosen  reading  occupied 
her  leisure  hours.  She  felt  that  she  could  be  happy,  yet 
she  found  a  satisfaction  in  persuading  herself  that  she 
was  not ;  and  she  had  reason  for  this  conviction,  for  there 
is  no  real  happiness  for  a  soul  that  resists  God. 

It  was  only  after  several  years  of  struggle,  effort,  and 
violent  combats  against  herself  that  she  sacrificed  to  God 
all  that  daydreaming,  which  was  so  alluring,  yet  so 
direful  in  its  effects.  Of  this  struggle,  Irma  wrote: 
"I  know  not  what  charm  there  was  in  my  folly,  yet, 
though  it  rendered  me  unhappy,  I  would  never  have  had 
the  courage  to  renounce  it,  without  the  grace  of  God. 
Yes,  such  is  the  human  heart.  It  requires  a  painful 
effort  to  consent  to  suffer  no  more.  Is  it,  then,  so  sweet 
to  suffer?" 

One  of  the  means  that  God  employed  to  draw  her 
completely  to  His  love  was  the  death  of  her  friend. 
When  Angelina  had  reached  her  eighteenth  year,  she 
was  attacked  by  consumption,  and,  as  several  members 
of  the  family  had  already  fallen  victims  to  this  disease, 
her  sisters  removed  her  from  the  seashore  to  a  milder 
climate.  From  the  first  appearance  of  the  malady  in 
her  friend,  Irma's  disquietude  was  extreme.  She  suf- 
fered much  in  being  separated  from  Angelina,  in  be- 
ing deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  taking  care  of  her, 
and  often  even  in  not  hearing  from  her;  for  Angelina 
was  too  feeble  to  write,  and  her  sisters  rarely  found  time 
to  do  so.  Irma  anxiously  desired  to  visit  Rennes  that 
she  might  again  see  the  one  she  loved  so  dearly ;  but  as 


BEREAVEMENT  AND  FEARS  23 

she  was  not  able  to  conceal  the  fears  she  entertained  for 
her  friend's  recovery,  nor  to  control  the  excess  of  her 
grief;  and,  moreover,  as  Angelina  expressed  no  wish  to 
see  her,  she  was  denied  this  last  sad  consolation.  Some- 
times she  flattered  herself  that  the  youthfulness  of  her 
friend  would  triumph  over  the  disease,  but  oftener  she 
gave  way  to  gloomy  forebodings  in  expectation  of  the 
dreaded  misfortune  for  which  nothing  could  console  her. 
So  she  felt  the  need  of  turning  to  God  for  strength  to 
bear  the  trial.  Fearing  she  had  harmed  Angelina,  she 
sought  to  repair  her  wrongs  by  addressing  most  fervent 
prayers  to  Heaven  for  the  health,  and  especially  for  the 
soul  of  her  friend. 

Alas !  this  young  girl,  so  gay,  so  graceful,  so  charming 
that  every  one  submitted  to  her  indifference  and  coldness 
without  ceasing  to  love  her,  was  not  to  be  restored  to 
health.  For  six  months  her  sisters  contended  for  her 
with  death,  but  when  the  leaves  fell  in  autumn,  God 
called  her  to  Himself. 

Irma's  grief  was  extreme ;  she  expressed  it  in  the  style 
enjoyed  by  Angelina,  as  if  thus  to  charm  her  still: 

I  ask  you  of  the  earth,  the  sea,  the  day,  the  night — no 
creature  possesses  you.  You  are  with  God.  Ah!  why 
does  your  happiness  draw  from  me  so  many  tears?  I 
do  not  know  how  the  flowers  can  bloom  or  display  their 
colors.  I  wonder  that  the  birds  sing.  It  seems  to  me 
that  the  world  should  end  with  you,  Angelina. 

Ah!  if  you  but  knew  how  I  love  you.  Your  death 
has  not  destroyed  my  love.  The  remembrance  of  you 
engrosses  all  my  thoughts.  Your  existence  is  blended 
with  mine.  How  is  it  that  with  two  loves  and  a  double 
life,  it  seems  at  times  that  my  soul  is  annihilated  and  that 
I  have  ceased  to  exist? 

Irma  was  now  in  her  nineteenth  year.  The  effect 
produced  in  her  soul  by  the  death  of  Angelina  was  as 


24  MLLE.  ELVIRE  PAYAN 

deep  as  it  was  lasting  and  salutary.  At  a  glance  she 
saw  the  nothingness  of  earthly  things.  She  felt  dis- 
solving under  her  feet  that  which  had  appeared  to  her 
the  most  solid  basis  of  happiness — human  friendship. 
She  asked  herself  with  dread  what  had  been  the  object 
of  this  extreme  tenderness.  She  recalled  all  their  con- 
versations, the  counsels  she  had  given  to  her  friend,  and 
all  now  seemed  to  her  very  empty,  if  not  dangerous. 
No  doubt  she  exaggerated  her  faults  in  the  bitterness  of 
her  anguish,  but  her  regrets  and  sorrow  brought  her 
nearer  to  God. 

Writing  to  Mademoiselle  Elvire  Payan,  Angelina's 
sister,  she  says : 

I  received  your  letter,  which  made  me  weep  so  much. 
Your  soul  is  sad;  a  bitter  sorrow  rends  it.  I  wish  I 
could  calm  it ;  but,  alas,  I  have  lost  my  friend,  the  only 
confidante  of  my  thoughts,  my  pains,  and  my  pleasures. 
I  cannot  recall  the  day  my  love  for  her  began.  Ah !  my 
Angelina,  do  you  not  remember  in  your  new  abode  the 
lovely  days  of  our  childhood,  our  innocent  joys,  our 
youthful  years  when  we  were  so  happy? 

She  died  in  your  arms!  How  you  must  have  suf- 
fered !  I  can  see  her,  pale,  expiring,  raising  her  hand  to 
her  forehead  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  dying 
without  being  able  to  bring  it  down  to  her  heart.  Elvire, 
you  knew  my  desire,  but  God  who  knew  my  weakness 
kept  me  away  from  this  heartrending  scene.  He  did 
not  permit  me  to  receive  her  last  sigh. 

At  the  moment  when  her  soul  parted  from  her  body 
I  was  in  the  chapel  at  Lorette.  I  received  Holy  Com- 
munion for  her;  it  was  the  end  of  our  novena.  Oh!  I 
had  great  need  that  God  who  had  taken  away  my  friend 
should  come  to  strengthen  my  heart. 

How  I  thank  you  for  all  your  watchings,  your  kind- 
ness, your  fatigues  at  the  bedside  of  Angelina!  This 
makes  me  love  you  as  if  it  had  been  done  to  me.  But  I 
entreat  you,  in  the  name  of  the  friendship  you  have 


LESSONS  FROM  SORROW  25 

pledged  me,  and  which  has  taken  birth  in  a  tomb,  to 
moderate  your  grief.  Live  for  me.  Listen! — I  am 
very  cowardly — I  hoped  my  sorrow  would  make  me  die. 
Live  to  speak  to  me  of  Angelina,  and  when  others  will 
have  forgotten  her  we  shall  speak  of  her  still — yes,  al- 
ways. 

To  this  cousin,  who  had  been  initiated  into  the  confi- 
dence she  gave  Angelina,  Irma  says  further : 

Be  so  good  and  virtuous  that  in  seeing  you  I  may 
forget  that  my  counsels,  and  still  more  my  example, 
could  have  made  Angelina  commit  faults  which  neither 
the  pains  of  her  illness  nor  the  fires  of  purgatory  may 
have  yet  expiated.  Oh!  I  do  not  wish  to  have  to  re- 
proach myself  thus  in  future.  Perhaps  I  am  severe 
with  myself;  but  my  past  weakness  causes  me  to  weep 
so  much  that  I  hope  never  to  utter  a  word  which  can 
make  you  offend  God. 

A  little  later  she  writes  to  the  same  cousin: 

There  remains  to  me  still  a  Friend  whom  alone  I  wish 
to  love.  He  does  not  die,  He  will  not  abandon  me.  If 
my  heart  cannot  bear  the  weight  of  its  sorrow,  I  shall 
cast  it  upon  His.  Not  only  is  that  Divine  Heart  not 
disturbed  by  my  troubles,  but  It  teaches  me  to  draw 
from  my  sufferings  the  sweetness  of  peace.  In  Him 
thenceforth  I  place  my  happiness  and  all  my  hope ;  my 
future  will  be  heaven,  and  death  will  be  to  me  a  gain. 

Only  one  more  letter  referring  to  Angelina  is  found 
among  Irma's  papers. 

Two  years  ago  to-day  my  friend  died.  Mass  was 
said  for  her  this  morning  at  eight  o'clock.  What  an 
affecting  dream  I  had  last  night !  I  was  reunited  to  my 
Angelina.  I  heard  that  voice,  so  dear  to  me ;  I  pressed 
that  hand, — many  times  before  had  I  clasped  it  in  mine ; 
I  saw  that  graceful  form.  I  found  again  that  friend, 
more  beautiful,  more  tender  than  ever ;  I  clasped  her  in 


26  EFFECTS  OF  A  RETREAT 

my  arms  and  I  almost  feared  I  would  cause  her  to  die, 
she  was  so  fragile.  She  spoke  to  me  and  I  could  hear 
her.  I  showed  her  the  trees  of  our  grove,  the  flowers 
of  our  grotto,  the  ivy  of  the  valley.  All  had  grown 
much  during  her  long  absence.  Nature  was  so  beauti- 
ful, more  beautiful  even  than  the  day  I  saw  again  the 
gardens  of  Lorette  after  my  long  illness  of  the  month 
of  May.  I  said  to  her:  See  how  the  flowers  are  smil- 
ing; and  what  perfume!  Listen  to  the  birds,  the  lark 
of  the  hawthorn,  dost  thou  remember  it? 

O  happiness!  She  had  been  given  to  me,  she  was 
mine.  Alas!  The  bliss  vanished  at  my  awaking,  but 
the  sweet  vision  remains  in  my  mind.  I  said  to  myself : 
Soon  my  Angelina  will  show  me  the  ravishing  charms 
of  her  new  home.  She  will  press  me  to  her  heart  and 
have  me  admire  the  eternal  spring  which  is  never  dis- 
turbed by  a  cloud.  There  the  flowers  never  fade;  the 
heart  never  has  disappointment,  happy  dreams  never 
have  an  awakening. 

A  retreat  that  Irma  now  made  under  a  Jesuit  Father 
completed  what  she  termed  her  "conversion."  She  al- 
ways spoke  of  this  period  as  her  "period  of  a  sinner's 
life,"  and  she  regretted  with  deep  compunction  those 
vagaries  of  her  youth.  Exteriorly  she  had  always 
passed  for  a  person  of  exemplary  piety  and  devotedness, 
and  it  was  the  general  opinion  that  her  heart  had  never 
been  sullied  by  grievous  fault. 

"Adversity,"  says  Fenelon — and  it  is  the  same  with 
sorrow — "is  a  forge  which  tempers  the  heart  of  man  and 
prepares  it  for  the  duties  of  life."  It  was  thus  for  Irma. 
God,  by  one  of  those  marvels  which  His  goodness  con- 
ceals from  human  view,  imparted  His  divine  strength  to 
the  soul  of  Irma,  who  now  placed  in  His  heart  the  too 
heavy  weight  of  her  sorrow.  A  hymn  of  gratitude  and 
love  will  henceforth  arise  from  the  comforted  heart  of 
this  lovable  child. 


CHAPTER  IV 

OCCUPATIONS  IN   THE  FAMILY — CATECHISM — MONTH 
OF   MAEY OTHER   SPIRITUAL  WORKS 

IN  resolving  to  give  herself  to  God,  Irma  did  not 
have  to  sacrifice  the  love  of  worldly  pleasures; 
these  had  no  attraction  for  her.     Dress,  amuse- 
ments, dances,  and  all  those  things  that  ordinarily  capti- 
vate young  girls  were  painful  tasks.     She  complained 
of  them  in  her  letters.     To  one  of  her  sisters  she  wrote : 

Mother  wishes  me  to  fix  my  hair  in  a  way  that  will 
take  so  long  and  be  so  tiresome  that  I  feel  like  crying 
even  in  thinking  of  it.  Pity  me,  for  in  a  few  moments 
I  shall  have  to  commence  my  toilet.  What  a  misery  to 
have  to  go  to  a  party ;  it  wearies  me  only  to  think  of  it ! 
This  evening  I  shall  have  to  dance,  hold  myself  straight, 
step  in  time,  and  be  confined  within  the  four  walls  of  a 
parlor,  with  the  prospect  of  finding  the  bean  in  my  piece 
of  cake,  and  then  being  made  queen!  Oh!  I'll  die  of 
it!  And  to  die  of  ennui!  What  a  frightful  death! 

The  repugnance  Irma  felt  to  going  out  in  society  was 
sometimes  manifested  on  her  pretty  face.  One  of  her 
father's  friends,  in  undertaking  to  make  her  dance,  said 
smilingly,  "Since  they  will  make  a  martyr  of  her,  I 
might  as  well  do  it  as  any  one  else." 

Later,  when  all  her  thoughts  turned  towards  God,  she 
endeavored  to  sanctify  this  tediousness;  and  when  she 
had  to  take  part  in  these  soirees,  she  offered  them  to  God 
for  the  conversion  of  sinners,  the  deliverance  of  the  souls 
in  Purgatory,  and  other  intentions  of  this  kind. 

27 


28  APPLICATION  TO  STUDY 

If  in  youth  Irma  did  not  attach  value  to  her  ap- 
pearance nor  to  what  could  enhance  her  exterior  grace, 
she  was  not  for  all  that  free  from  self-love;  she  merely 
allowed  it  to  turn  in  another  direction.  She  was  too 
eager  to  acquire  knowledge  and  to  appear  brilliant. 
She  had  an  excellent  heart  and  never  voluntarily  pained 
any  one ;  but  her  frequent  sallies  of  wit  and  her  fondness 
for  raillery  sometimes  caused  her  regrets. 

"I  daily  forget  the  promises  I  make  to  God,"  she  said 
to  one  of  her  friends,  "I  am  impulsive  and  speak  hastily. 
I  am  inclined  to  tease  and  to  dart  piercing  arrows. 
Alas !  these  arrows  wound  my  own  soul  before  reaching 
their  object.  How  humiliating  to  be  enslaved  by  the 
tongue,  to  allow  myself  to  be  carried  away  by  jest,  and 
thus  become  impolite  even  towards  persons  I  love.  Yet 
I  am  not  wicked,  for  I  do  not  wish  to  pain  them.  Pray 
for  me ;  I  desire  to  correct  myself,  and  to  renounce  this 
spirit  which  is  so  displeasing  to  God." 

To  another  she  said  on  the  same  subject:  "There  is, 
perhaps,  no  one  more  indifferent  than  I  am  to  the  luxury 
of  the  house,  to  dress,  and  to  the  table;  but  the  devil 
loses  nothing  thereby,  for  he  fills  me  with  an  excessive 
desire  of  acquiring  knowledge.  I  dream  of  nothing  but 
books,  drawing,  and  study.  I  fear  to  lose  the  thought 
of  my  salvation  in  all  this  tumult,  for  books  inflame  and 
intoxicate  me  as  champagne  would  do.  Without  re- 
ligion such  study  would  become  a  passion  for  me. 
Sometimes  I  think  it  is  permissible,  but  that  is  an  error. 
All  is  vanity  except  to  love  and  serve  God." 

The  same  complete  surrender  with  which  Irma  in- 
dulged her  fancies  and  reveries  she  carried  into  the 
service  of  God,  when  for  His  love  she  had  sacrificed  her 
daydreams.  She  had  now  but  one  thought,  one  aim — to 
give  herself  without  reserve  to  God  and  to  spend  herself 


COMPLETE  SURRENDER  TO  GOD      29 

in  gaining  hearts  for  Him.  For  several  years,  it  is  true, 
she  did  not  know  how  best  to  procure  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  welfare  of  souls,  but,  from  the  first  moment  that 
she  surrendered  her  heart  to  God,  she  never  turned  her 
eyes  from  the  end  she  had  in  view.  Meantime,  far  from 
neglecting  the  good  that  could  be  done  around  her,  she 
redoubled  her  care  for  her  younger  sisters  and  brothers. 
Speaking  of  this  period  she  wrote: 

I  brought  up  my  little  Clementine  for  her  parents 
and  for  God.  I  taught  her  the  catechism  and  also  to 
love  me.  I  placed  my  future  happiness  on  her  feeble 
childhood.  Poor  earthly  happiness,  why  dost  thou  lean 
upon  a  reed?  Often  when  she  lay  in  her  cradle,  we 
spoke  together  of  Heaven;  and  I  remember  one  day 
she  threw  her  little  arms  around  my  neck  and  said  to 
me,  "Godmamma,  since  it  is  so  nice  to  be  in  Heaven, 
kill  me."  When  she  was  older,  I  spoke  to  her  of  our 
Heaven  on  earth — Jesus  in  the  Holy  Eucharist.  Fer- 
vent desires  inflamed  her  heart,  and  God  in  His  mercy 
gave  me  the  happiness  of  seeing  her  admitted  to  the 
Holy  Table  one  year  earlier  than  the  customary  age. 
How  delighted  I  was  to  conduct  her  to  the  retreat  pre- 
paratory to  her  First  Communion,  to  speak  to  her  of  the 
goodness  of  God,  and  to  prepare  in  her  heart  an  altar 
for  this  God  of  love!  I  brought  her  to  the  feet  of  our 
father  and  mother,  that  they  might  bless  her;  and  when 
she  had  gone  to  bed  and  we  were  alone  she  threw  her- 
self into  my  arms  and  wept,  and  I  wept  too.  "To- 
morrow, to-morrow,"  she  said  to  me;  "there  is  but  one 
night  between  God  and  my  heart."  Oh !  what  a  blessed 
night  she  passed.  God  had  pardoned  all  her  faults, 
and  the  morrow  was  to  be  the  day  of  her  First  Com- 
munion. All  the  family  assembled  on  that  day  to  share 
our  happiness.  Our  dear  grandmother  also  came  to  the 
grand  First  Communion  dinner.  For  many  years,  on 
similar  occasions,  she  left  Lorette  and  her  old  armchair 
to  be  present  at  these  joyous  feasts.  How  happy  she 
was  to  be  among  us,  and  how  happy  we  were  around  her! 


30  LABORS  AS  PRECEPTRESS 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  Irma,  who  occupied 
herself  so  intensely  with  the  spiritual  welfare  of  her  little 
sister,  neglected  somewhat  the  material  care  she  should 
have  bestowed  upon  her.  She  often  used  to  say  to  her : 
"My  dear  child,  God  regards  only  the  interior,  and  if 
you  are  kind  and  obedient,  He  will  love  you  as  much 
dressed  in  muslin  as  in  silk.  Do  you  desire  to  be  ele- 
gantly attired,  when  Jesus  was  clad  in  an  old  purple 
mantle  ?  Be  humble  and  industrious,  and  do  not  dispute 
with  your  brothers.  Do  this  for  the  good  God,  and  I 
also  will  reward  you." 

These  recompenses  were  not  always  what  Clementine 
would  have  chosen.  To  accompany  her  to  Mass,  to  visit 
poor  families,  or  to  assist  at  the  catechism  which  Irma 
gave  in  the  evening  to  the  poor  of  the  neighborhood  were 
the  rewards.  But  the  little  godchild  was  flattered  by 
being  considered  a  somebody;  besides,  she  was  always 
happy  when  with  her  sister,  who  profited  by  every  oc- 
casion to  instruct  her.  Every  object  offered  matter  for 
reflection. 

Whenever  her  brothers  had  studied  very  diligently 
and  had  been  exceedingly  good,  the  most  acceptable  re- 
ward Irma  could  give  them  was  to  tell  one  of  the  stories 
which  she  could  most  skillfully  make  up.  She  had  in- 
herited from  her  father  a  wonderful  talent  for  invention. 
Even  grown  persons  sometimes  stopped  to  listen  to  her, 
and  her  brothers  always  wished  that  the  recital  might 
last  longer.  Before  beginning  Irma  would  stick  a  pin 
in  the  candle,  putting  it  higher  or  lower  according  to 
the  degree  of  goodness  which  merited  the  reward.  One 
of  her  brothers  once  exclaimed,  "O  candle,  how  rapidly 
you  burned !  How  sorry  we  were  to  see  you  consumed 
so  quickly!  Selfish,  like  all  children,  we  never  thought 
of  the  fatigue  our  sister  might  experience." 


WORKS  AMONG  THE  POOR  31 

Irma  continued  to  interest  herself  in  her  brothers,  but 
it  was  their  souls  she  had  especially  in  view.  By  her 
attention,  her  kindness,  and  her  entire  forgetfulness  of 
self  she  endeavored  more  and  more  to  gain  their  af- 
fection, and  thus  to  turn  their  hearts  to  God.  With 
the  younger  ones  she  studied,  and  with  the  older  she  read 
passages  of  the  Holy  Scripture,  the  beauties  of  which 
she  made  them  love  and  admire.  Always  gay  yet 
thoughtful,  she  took  part  in  their  conversations,  went 
with  them  on  their  walks,  and  drew  from  the  most  in- 
different circumstances  a  comparison,  or  made  a  remark, 
that  would  elevate  their  hearts  toward  eternal  things. 

In  her  desire  to  make  God  known  and  loved,  Irma  as- 
sembled the  poor  of  the  neighborhood  every  Sunday 
evening  to  explain  to  them  the  catechism.  At  the  house 
of  a  man,  poor  indeed  in  all  things  except  in  the  posses- 
sion of  an  excellent  wife,  Irma  gave  these  instructions, 
which  she  always  adapted  to  the  intelligence  of  her 
hearers. 

All  Monsieur  le  Fer's  children  had  learned  to  read 
in  Royaumont's  large  Bible,  which  particularly  delights 
children,  on  account  of  the  pictures  that  adorn  its  pages 
and  engrave  indelibly  on  the  memory  the  holy  and  touch- 
ing narratives  of  the  Sacred  Scripture.  Irma  thought 
that  the  children  of  her  class  would  like  this  divine  book, 
as  she  loved  it  herself,  and  she  desired  to  make  them 
acquainted  with  it.  It  was  a  great  favor  to  be  permitted 
to  carry  the  Bible  to  and  from  the  place  of  instruction, 
a  favor  which  was  granted  to  the  most  docile  and 
studious  of  her  pupils.  After  the  explanation  of  the 
catechism,  Irma  showed  the  pictures  and  explained  the 
texts  to  those  who  had  listened  with  attention. 

She  knew  how  to  interest  both  the  children  and  their 
mothers  by  mingling  examples  with  her  explanations, 


32  LOVE  OF  THE  SACRED  SCRIPTURE 

and  by  questioning  her  hearers  on  the  instruction  of  the 
preceding  Sunday.  The  lesson  was  usually  given  in  a 
cloud  of  smoke.  She  had  to  furnish  candles,  if  they 
wanted  light,  as  well  as  to  provide  seats ;  and  this,  again 
and  again,  for  during  the  little  vacations  which  she  gave 
her  pupils  the  proprietor  of  the  dwelling  (who  bore  a 
striking  resemblance  to  the  Miron  of  Louis  Veuillot) 
used  the  benches,  even  to  the  last  board,  "to  boil  his 
pot." 

Irma  also  made  a  great  display  in  the  distribution  of 
prizes  for  catechism.  The  rewards  were  insignificant  in 
themselves,  but  she  presided  with  so  much  graciousness, 
and  there  was  so  much  kindness  in  the  brief  address  she 
made  and  in  her  manner  of  offering  the  prizes,  that 
all  the  little  ones  were  contented  and  happy.  And  if 
they  had  even  the  least  good  will,  she  inspired  them  with 
a  desire  to  be  instructed. 

Without  knowing  it,  Irma  was  actuated  by  Lacor- 
daire's  maxim,  "We  can  do  good  to  men  only  by  loving 
them."  And  if  she  did  so  much  good  among  the  poor, 
it  was  doubtless  owing  to  the  great  love  she  bore  these 
privileged  ones  of  the  Lord.  She  shared  their  poverty; 
and  the  little  money  she  possessed  was  theirs,  for  she 
could  keep  nothing  for  herself.  She  placed  a  small 
library  of  choice  works  at  the  disposal  of  those  who  could 
read,  and  gradually  increased  the  number  of  books. 

She  procured  the  opportunity  of  making  retreats  for 
all  those  who  had  the  desire  and  the  time  to  make  them ; 
and  to  facilitate  this  good  work  she  had  not  only  to 
provide  food  for  those  who  made  the  retreats,  but,  when 
it  was  the  father  of  a  family,  she  had  to  give  what  he 
would  have  gained  by  his  week's  labor,  besides  support- 
ing the  mother  and  children  in  the  meantime.  When 
she  had  spent  all  her  own  money  she  would  solicit  from 


HOPES  FOR  AN  ORPHANAGE  33 

her  relatives  and  friends.  Nothing  was  difficult  or  im- 
possible to  her  when  she  worked  for  her  dear  poor.  And 
her  clients  were  not  ungrateful.  When  before  starting 
to  America  she  returned  home  after  an  absence  of  nearly 
two  years  at  Ruille,  they  were  anxious  to  see  her  and  to 
express  their  thanks.  She  never  thought  she  devoted 
too  much  time  to  them,  and  she  enjoyed  their  visits  so 
much  that  her  sisters  had  to  feign  jealousy,  in  order  that 
they  might  have  a  few  moments  of  the  short  time  she 
was  to  spend  with  her  family. 

All  the  unfortunate  had  claims  on  Irma's  affection; 
but  she  was  particularly  interested  in  the  little  boys, 
probably  because  at  this  time  they  were  much  more 
neglected  at  Saint  Servan  than  were  the  little  girls. 
One  of  her  sweetest  dreams  was  to  provide  an  orphan- 
age for  them.  She  often  spoke  of  it  to  her  sister 
Eugenie,  to  whom  she  wished  to  entrust  the  temporali- 
ties, reserving  to  herself  only  the  care  of  their  souls.  In 
1851  she  wrote  from  America :  "That  old  and  cherished 
desire  of  having  an  orphan  asylum  will  soon  be  realized. 
We  shall  have  our  little  boys  in  August."  One  of  her 
objects  in  studying  Latin  was  to  teach  its  elements  to 
the  poor  children  whom  God  might  call  to  the  priest- 
hood. Without  doubt  her  personal  fortune  would  not 
have  sufficed  to  meet  the  expenses  of  an  orphanage,  but 
to  her  this  was  no  obstacle.  Having  an  absolute  confi- 
dence in  Almighty  God  she  would  say,  "If  He  approve 
my  undertakings,  He  is  rich  and  liberal  enough  to  pay 
the  expenses." 

She  sought  by  preference  the  greatest  ignorance  and 
the  deepest  misery.  One  day  she  met  a  young  boy  who 
realized  on  this  point  all  her  desires.  He  was  called 
Jean  Louis.  Whether  he  ever  knew  his  family  is 
doubtful,  but,  if  he  did,  he  had  forgotten  its  name.  He 


34  THE  MONTH  OF  MARY 

had  no  knowledge  of  his  earthly  father,  and  no  one  had 
taught  him  to  say,  "Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven." 
He  wandered  like  a  vagabond  on  the  earth.  He  was  a 
compound  of  the  grossest  ignorance  and  coarseness ;  in 
fact,  he  was  a  real  treasure  for  Irma,  and  it  is  hard  to 
describe  how  joyfully  she  endeavored  to  cultivate  his  un- 
tutored mind.  To  facilitate  the  work,  she  wanted  to 
have  him  remain  at  her  own  home;  but  her  father,  who 
did  not  wish  to  have  the  orphanage  begin  at  his  house, 
and,  above  all,  with  Jean  Louis,  would  not  allow  her  to 
keep  her  first  protege. 

She  accepted  the  refusal  with  a  sad  resignation  but 
did  not  lose  courage.  Through  the  assistance  of  some 
pious  friends,  Jean  Louis  received  Christian  instruction, 
and  she  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  him  make  his  First 
Holy  Communion.  He  was  also  placed  in  a  position 
where  he  could  gain  an  honest  livelihood.  He  had  not 
the  inclination,  however,  to  renounce  entirely  his  no- 
madic life,  but  whenever  he  returned  to  Saint  Servan, 
he  inquired  for  his  first  benefactress  in  terms  expressive 
of  his  gratitude. 

The  sweet  and  tender  devotion  of  the  Month  of  Mary 
was  not  known  at  Saint  Servan  up  to  1836  except  in 
some  pious  families.  Irma  obtained  for  her  poor  the 
happiness  of  assembling  to  pray  and  to  honor  Mary,  the 
Mother  of  Jesus,  who  once  like  them  had  been  poor. 
She  secured  the  largest  house  in  the  neighborhood  to  use 
as  a  chapel.  The  little  altar  on  which  the  statue  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  stood  was  adorned  with  the  prettiest 
flowers  of  the  season.  By  laying  boards  on  chairs  she 
was  able  to  seat  nearly  all  the  audience,  old  and  young; 
for  if  the  mothers  came,  their  children  had  to  be  admitted 
also.  After  these  had  promised  to  be  very  quiet,  Irma 
grouped  the  little  ones  around  her,  and  sleep  generally 


SINGING  LESSONS  35 

came  to  help  them  keep  their  promise.  The  reading, 
always  interspersed  with  interesting  anecdotes,  was 
listened  to  attentively  by  the  older  ones;  they  also 
answered  the  evening  prayers  with  devout  attention. 

One  of  Irma's  greatest  and  constant  regrets  was  that 
she  could  not  sing.  How  happy  she  would  have  been  to 
chant  the  praises  of  the  Lord!  A  hymn  is  a  prayer 
which  tranquilizes  the  soul  while  elevating  it  sweetly 
toward  God.  As  the  Month  of  Mary  is  not  complete 
without  hymns,  it  was  necessary  to  refresh  and  please 
her  audience  by  making  them  learn  to  sing  the  goodness 
and  glory  of  Mary.  In  this  emergency  she  had  recourse 
to  her  sister  Cecile  and  two  of  her  friends,  the  Mesde- 
moiselles  Leroux,  who,  notwithstanding  the  great  dis- 
tance they  lived  and  their  numerous  occupations,  con- 
sidered it  a  pleasure  to  go  every  evening  to  lend  their 
voices  for  making  the  Blessed  Virgin  known  and  loved. 

Many  years  have  elapsed  since  then.  The  Month  of 
Mary  is  celebrated  with  much  more  solemnity,  the  as- 
sembly is  much  larger,  and  the  music  more  brilliant; 
nevertheless,  these  first  reunions  of  the  poor  have  re- 
mained among  the  most  cherished  memories  of  those  who 
contributed  to  them  by  their  hymns. 

When  Irma  thought  of  going  amongst  the  Americans, 
and  was  told  of  their  innate  love  of  music,  her  inability 
to  sing  caused  her  fresh  regret.  She  tried  all  means, 
human  and  divine,  to  obtain  success  in  this  art.  She 
practiced  singing  a  canticle  to  the  Sacred  Heart  of 
Jesus  in  which  are  found  the  words,  "Aid  my  voice  to 
praise  Thy  power."  She  repeated  them  incessantly 
with  a  stifled  and  expiring  voice,  but  Jesus  remained 
deaf  to  her  call.  She  asked  her  younger  sisters  to  give 
her  lessons.  Cecile  positively  refused;  Elvire,  very 
young  at  that  time,  let  herself  be  tempted  by  the  promise 


36  A  LEGACY  TO  THE  POOR 

of  a  pretty  shawl,  but,  when  she  got  the  reward,  she  hid, 
so  as  to  be  no  longer  obliged  to  teach  so  hopeless  a  pupil. 
Irma  persevered  in  her  illusions  until  she  went  to  Ruille ; 
there  they  vanished  forever.  Having  accepted  an  in- 
vitation to  sing  a  Christmas  hymn  before  her  companions 
in  the  novitiate,  she  was  greeted  by  such  peals  of 
laughter  that  she  never  afterwards  doubted  her  inca- 
pacity. 

When  Irma  left  Saint  Servan  it  cost  her  a  great  deal 
to  abandon  the  pious  works  to  which  she  had  so  lovingly 
devoted  herself;  before  starting  she  distributed  them  to 
her  sisters  as  a  precious  legacy,  entreating  them  to  con- 
tinue these  works  of  charity  for  God  and  for  her.  She 
wrote  to  Cecile :  "Love  our  catechism  a  little,  and  our 
children;  they  belong  to  Jesus.  Ah!  if  you  could  pre- 
vent their  offending  our  dear  Savior!  Courage,  my 
dear  Cecile,  courage!" 

She  earnestly  recommended  to  Eugenie  the  Month  of 
Mary  for  the  poor,  and  also  the  care  of  facilitating  for 
them  the  means  of  making  retreats.  "Use  the  re- 
mainder of  my  money  for  the  latter,"  she  said;  "procure 
this  happiness  for  Fanchette  and  Louison,  for  I  do  not 
see  why  these  honest  people  should  be  deprived  of  spirit- 
ual consolations.  But  try  especially  to  have  Yvon  make 
a  retreat."  It  was  Yvon 1  who  had  given  the  use  of  his 
house  for  catechism.  He  declared  that  he  understood 
the  mysteries,  but  he  easily  forgot  the  commandments, 
particularly  the  seventh;  and  Irma  hoped  that  a  good 
retreat  would  convert  him.  Many  years  after  her  de- 
parture, she  continued  to  be  interested  in  her  poor  of 

lYvon  was  an  idle  fellow,  who  compelled  his  wife  to  do  his  work  for 
him.  "Madame,"  he  would  say  to  her,  "what  have  you  to  give  me  for 
dinner?"  "Alas!  nothing,"  she  would  reply,  when  she  had  not  been  able 
to  obtain  alms.  "Then  go  quickly  and  get  me  some  bread;  and  remember  if 
you  give  me  nothing,  I  shall  give  you  something." 


A  LEGACY  TO  THE  POOR  37 

Saint  Servan.  "Try  to  help  them  this  winter,"  she 
wrote;  "they  must  suffer  from  the  cold.  Write  to  me 
about  them,  and  tell  my  good  people  I  shall  always  love 
them." 


CHAPTER  V 

ZEAL   FOE  THE   SALVATION    OF   SOULS — FIRST   INTENTION 
OF   BECOMING  A   MISSIONARY 

A  SPECIAL  occasion  for  exercising  her  zeal  soon 
presented  itself  to  Irma.  An  English  Prot- 
estant lady,  a  widow  with  three  children,  had 
recently  taken  up  her  residence  in  the  neighborhood. 
She  seemed  to  be  in  good  faith,  and  Irma,  persuaded 
that  it  was  necessary  only  for  her  to  know  the  truth  in 
order  to  embrace  it,  zealously  instructed  her  in  the 
Catholic  religion.  She  gave  her  books  of  controversy, 
and  procured  interviews  for  her  with  a  learned  priest. 
Whenever  she  desired  to  witness  a  religious  ceremony 
Irma  took  her  to  the  church.  The  children,  too,  were 
the  objects  of  her  affection,  and  she  lavished  on  them 
the  kindest  attention.  She  was  at  the  same  time  deeply 
concerned  about  a  young  woman,  who,  having  married  an 
irreligious  man,  had  lost  her  faith.  By  her  visits,  her 
conversations,  and  her  letters  Irma  recalled  the  truths 
of  our  holy  religion  to  the  young  woman's  mind,  and  en- 
deavored to  make  her  see  them  in  a  consoling,  amiable, 
and  attractive  light.  With  the  non-Catholic,  Mrs. 
Foote,  she  was  obliged  to  employ  argument,  but  with 
the  other  she  addressed  the  heart.  The  latter  was  easily 
conquered,  but  Irma  soon  perceived  that  far  from  seek- 
ing enlightenment  in  her  intercourse  with  Catholics, 
Mrs.  Foote  was  really  trying  to  make  proselytes  to  her 
own  views.  If  Irma's  hopes  with  this  lady  were  not 
realized,  their  intercourse  was,  nevertheless,  a  means  of 

38 


ATTRACTION  TO  THE  SAVAGES  39 

forwarding  her  own  religious  vocation.  She  often  said 
afterwards  that  if  she  had  gained  this  soul  to  God  she 
would,  in  all  probability,  have  thought  only  of  con- 
tinuing her  little  apostolate  among  the  Protestants  of 
her  own  country;  but  the  obstinacy  of  this  woman  in- 
spired her  with  the  idea  of  bringing  to  Jesus  Christ  souls 
that  had  not  yet  had  an  opportunity  of  knowing  Him, 
souls  that  sighed  for  the  truth  and  asked  but  grace  to 
see  the  light  and  follow  it.  Her  intention  at  the  begin- 
ning, however,  was  not  to  labor  for  Protestants,  but  to 
devote  herself  to  the  conversion  of  savages. 

This  first  inspiration  had  been  given  to  her  by  Abbe 
Garret,  a  missionary  apostolic,  who  about  1834  came  to 
France  to  beg  alms  for  his  poor  mission.  Before  can- 
vassing at  Saint  Servan,  he  told  of  the  miseries  of  the 
savages.  He  was  certainly  not  eloquent,  but  he  spoke 
with  so  much  conviction,  and  there  was  such  unction 
even  in  his  drawling  voice,  and  he  seemed  so  holy  that 
he  touched  hearts,  and  probably  heads,  for  many  of  the 
young  people  wished  to  share  his  missionary  labors. 
Abbe  Garret  received  abundant  alms,  but  the  enthusiasm 
disappeared  with  him ;  and  Irma,  who  showed  the  least, 
was  perhaps  the  only  one  who  preserved  it  in  her 
heart.  She  spoke  of  it  to  Abbe  Cardonnet  only,  and 
waited  in  peace,  resolved  to  follow  the  will  of  God  when 
He  should  make  it  known  to  her  through  her  director. 
In  the  meantime  the  abbe  prayed  for  light  to  know 
whether  God  required  her  to  sacrifice  her  country  and 
family,  and,  not  wishing  to  decide  the  case  himself,  he 
approved  her  intention  of  consulting  Father  Besnoin,1 
who  was  preaching  a  course  of  Lenten  sermons  at  Saint 
Servan.  Irma  confided  to  him  her  pious  desires. 

i  Father  Besnoin,  of  whom  frequent  mention  shall  be  made,  was  an  old 
Jesuit  priest,  very  learned  but  a  little  eccentric. 


40  VOW  OF  VIRGINITY 

Father  Besnoin  advised  her  to  consecrate  her  virginity 
to  God  and  to  use  every  means  to  procure  His  glory. 
He  ended  by  saying,  "You  will  go  to  the  missions  to 
convert  the  little  savages."  These  words  were  deeply 
engraved  on  her  memory. 

From  that  time  all  her  thoughts  centered  about  one 
object.  To  go  beyond  the  seas  to  the  poor  savages  de- 
prived of  all  spiritual  help,  to  teach  them  to  know  God, 
to  make  them  love  their  Divine  Savior — these  were  the 
projects  which  inflamed  her  zeal;  but  not  knowing 
when  nor  how  she  might  leave  France  and  cross  the 
ocean  to  obtain  the  object  of  her  desires,  she  kept  her 
secret  locked  in  her  heart.  It  seems  almost  incredible 
that  a  young  girl  of  her  age  should  think  of  going  so 
far  away  from  family  and  country  to  exercise  her  zeal, 
especially  as  she  felt  no  vocation  to  the  religious 
life. 

Though  Irma  was  always  deferential  and  submissive 
to  her  parents,  she  retained  a  spirit  of  independence 
which  made  all  subjection  painful  to  her.  It  was  even 
difficult  for  her  to  bear  the  regularity  of  family  life. 
When  she  left  the  house  for  an  errand  of  charity,  it  cost 
to  return  at  meal-time,  though  she  was  exact  in  doing  so. 
"How  I  should  like,"  she  said,  "to  eat  only  when  I  am 
hungry,  retire  only  when  I  am  sleepy,  and  always  wear 
the  same  clothing!  How  happy  sheep  are!  God 
clothes  them  for  the  winter,  and  men  shear  them  when 
summer  comes,  and  they  never  have  to  think  of  their 
dress.  I  wish  men  would  mutually  agree  to  adopt  a 
uniform  which  might  always  be  worn;  but  these  words 
in  the  Psalms  of  David,  you  will  change  the  form  like 
a  mantle,  show  that  the  custom  is  so  ancient  that  I  fear 
it  will  subsist  long  after  I  am  gone." 

That  spirit  of  independence  which  kept  far  from 


BISHOP  DE  LA  HAILANDIERE  41 

Irma  the  thought  of  embracing  the  religious  life,  seemed 
to  place  insurmountable  obstacles  to  her  gaining  souls 
to  God  in  heathen  countries.  Nevertheless,  He  who  had 
inspired  her  with  this  desire  provided  her  the  means  of 
having  it  fulfilled. 

Monseigneur  Brute,  who  was  consecrated  the  first 
bishop  of  Vincennes  (in  1834),  occupied  the  See  but  a 
short  time.  Life  is  soon  consumed  on  the  missions,  and 
this  holy  and  venerable  man,  prodigal  of  his  strength  to 
conquer  souls  for  Jesus  Christ,  soon  fell  a  victim  to  his 
zeal.  Abbe  de  la  Hailandiere,  another  Breton  who  had 
labored  as  a  missionary  in  Indiana,  was  chosen  to  suc- 
ceed Bishop  Brute.  In  1839  he  went  to  Paris  to  be  con- 
secrated and,  before  returning  to  America,  he  sought  in 
France  for  co-laborers  and  resources  for  the  needs  of  his 
diocese,  where  nothing  was  as  yet  solidly  established ;  his 
predecessor  was  so  poor  that  he  and  his  priests  were 
often  in  want  of  the  necessaries  of  life.  Irma  was  well 
acquainted  with  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere's  family,  and 
she  eagerly  listened  to  all  the  details  he  gave  of  those 
distant  countries  where  there  was  so  much  good  to  be 
done,  where  there  were  so  many  souls  to  enlighten  and 
to  save. 

To  Mademoiselle  Elvire  Payan,  she  hastened  to  write: 

We  had  a  visit  yesterday  from  Bishop  de  la  Hai- 
landiere, who  spoke  of  his  diocese  and  his  great  labors. 
Cecile  wished  to  set  out  with  him  immediately.  I  did 
not  say  anything,  but  I  thought  it  is  there  perhaps  that 
God  calls  me.  Eugenie  laughs  and  will  not  believe  me ; 
her  gayety  and  assurance  make  me  heartsick.  Poor 
dear  sister,  how  she  will  weep  when  I  leave  her! 

The  sufferings,  miseries,  and  privations  which  make 
up  the  missionary's  life,  far  from  extinguishing  Irma's 
zeal,  served  to  inflame  it.  As  soon  as  she  felt  that 


42  AMERICA  THE  GOAL 

Indiana  was  the  place  chosen  by  God  for  her,  her  only 
thought  was  how  to  get  there. 

Abbe  Cardonnet  was  a  friend  of  the  new  bishop,  and 
spoke  to  him  of  Irma's  desires.  As  his  Lordship  wished 
very  much  to  have  good  Catholics  in  his  diocese,  he 
gratefully  accepted  her  as  an  addition  to  the  religious 
that  he  hoped  to  take  with  him  that  very  year  in  July. 

Irma  gives  an  account  of  this  proceeding  to  Made- 
moiselle Elvire  Payan : 

I  have  just  been  to  hear  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere. 
He  preached  nothing  but  America.  It  was  a  conver- 
sation rather  than  a  sermon.  On  leaving  the  church  I 

went  to  Madame  B 's,  where  I  again  saw  him  and 

also  Abbe  Cardonnet.  His  pressing  exhortations  to 
follow  him  to  America  were  not  mere  jests,  and  I  did 
not  laugh  while  listening  to  them.  An  hour  later  I  saw 
the  two  in  the  garden,  and  I  went  up  to  them.  They 
were  talking  of  me.  Oh,  what  a  moment !  What !  leave 
all  I  love,  and  so  suddenly!  How  shall  I  ever  ask  my 
father,  how  speak  of  it  to  my  mother!  And  he  would 
take  me  away  in  three  months!  Abbe  Martin  and 
twenty  priests  are  going  with  him.  My  dearly  loved 
Elvire,  I  am  happy  here,  perfectly  happy,  and  it  is  for 
God  alone  that  I  would  abandon  my  happiness  in 
France.  God !  Ah !  He  is  indeed  worthy  of  some  tears 
and  heartbreakings. 

At  first  Irma  had  no  thought  of  making  any  religious 
engagements.  She  was  to  accompany  the  Sisters  as 
an  auxiliary,  and  determine  subsequently  whether  she 
felt  called  to  become  a  member  of  the  community. 


CHAPTER  VI 

VOCATION — LETTER  TO    HEE  FATHER — CONSENT   OF 
MONSIEUR  AND   MADAME  LE  FER  DE   LA   MOTTE 

IRMA  felt  keenly  the  grief  she  would  cause  her 
family  in  making  known  to  them  her  resolution  to 
leave  them  forever.     She  herself  did  not  know  how 
she  could  live  without  those  whom  she  loved  so  intensely 
that  for  many  years  she  had  not  been  willing  to  leave 
them,  even  for  a  day.     To  try  her  strength  she  asked 
permission  to  spend  some  time  at  the  chateau  of  Lanri- 
gan,  near  Combourg,  with  Monsieur  and  Madame  de 
la  Hailandiere,  who  intended  to  accompany  her  after- 
wards to  Rennes. 

The  ostensible  object  of  her  journey  was  to  assist  at 
the  ordination  of  her  brother  Alphonse,  who  was  to  re- 
ceive Minor  Orders;  but  she  wished  to  visit  this  city 
especially  to  consult  Abbe  Coedro,  a  missionary  and 
vicar-general  of  the  diocese,  a  learned  and  prudent  man 
in  whom  the  Le  Fer  family  placed  great  confidence. 
She  had  the  opportunity  of  seeing  him  several  times,  and 
amid  the  fancies  of  her  lively  imagination  he  recognized 
the  call  of  God.  He  was  impressed  by  the  warmth  of 
her  love  for  Jesus  in  the  Holy  Eucharist,  the  good  she 
effected  in  souls,  her  talents,  her  courage,  and  the  eleva- 
tion of  her  sentiments.  He  believed  her  capable  of 
great  sacrifices,  great  virtue,  and  great  success.  He 
blessed  her  and  said:  "Go,  my  daughter,  go  to  the 
missions  to  accomplish  the  noble  destiny  that  awaits 
you." 

43 


44  THE  DECISION  AND  RESULTS 

Strengthened  by  these  words  Irma  returned  to  Saint 
Servan,  her  heart  oppressed,  nevertheless,  by  the 
thought  of  asking  her  parents'  consent.  She  suffered 
keenly  from  the  pain  which  she  knew  she  was  about  to 
cause  them.  She  would  have  wished  to  bear  alone  the 
sorrow  of  the  whole  family. 

It  was  impossible  for  her  countenance  not  to  betray 
the  trouble  of  her  soul.  Her  mother  expected  to  see  her 
joyous  after  an  absence  which  must  have  seemed  very 
long  to  one  of  Irma's  disposition;  she  noticed,  instead, 
that  her  child  was  very  unnatural  and  preoccupied,  even 
in  her  marks  of  affection.  A  great  change  had  been 
wrought  in  her  soul.  She  had  gone  to  see  whether  she 
could  live  away  from  her  family,  and  God  had  taught 
her  that  all  is  possible  with  His  grace.  This  grace 
must  have  been  very  powerful  to  have  given  her  courage 
to  afflict  those  whom  she  so  tenderly  loved.  Still,  she 
had  yet  to  obtain  her  parents'  consent  to  accompany 
Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere,  who  intended  to  return  to 
America  in  July.  Not  feeling  the  courage  to  speak, 
Irma  wrote  the  following  letter: 

Saint  Servan,  June  7,  1839. 

My  beloved  Father: — My  mother  dressed  me  so 
elegantly  to  go  to  Rennes  and  made  me  look  so  beauti- 
ful that,  although  destitute  of  fortune,  I  have  found  a 
rich  Suitor.  You  know  how  much  I  love  you  all. 
Well,  notwithstanding  the  love  I  bear  my  country  and 
my  family,  the  proposal  made  me  is  so  advantageous, 
so  unhoped-for,  that  I  have  replied  I  shall  accept  if  you 
give  your  consent.  One  thing,  however,  afflicts  me ;  it  is 
the  thought  of  leaving  you;  for  I  shall  have  to  go  far 
away  from  my  dear  Saint  Servan. 

It  will  be  a  bitter  grief  to  me;  nevertheless,  if  you 
have  the  courage  to  sacrifice  your  daughter,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  follow  everywhere  the  One  who  asks  my  heart. 


THE  LETTER  TO  HER  FATHER       45 

To  be  willing  to  leave  you — you,  O  my  father !  whom  I 
love  so  much — is  a  proof  that  my  poor  heart  is  entirely 
captivated.  Yes,  I  acknowledge  it.  I  feel  I  shall  al- 
ways be  unhappy  if  you  refuse  your  consent  to  this 
union.  I  would  even  be  unhappy  with  you.  Oh!  I  do 
not  say  this  to  my  mother ; — this  one  word  would  draw 
forth  from  her  the  permission  I  desire  to  obtain  only 
after  she  has  fully  deliberated. 

You  will  perhaps  ask  the  name  of  Him  whom  I  love 
with  a  love  so  strong  that  I  would  sacrifice  my  country 
and  the  thousand  ties  that  bind  me  to  it.  His  name! — 
Ah ! — that  would  reveal  the  high  destiny  that  awaits  me, 
the  immense  fortune  that  is  offered  me.  His  name 
alone  would  take  away  from  both  you  and  my  mother 
the  liberty  of  opposing  my  desires.  My  poor  father,  did 
you  but  know  who  it  is  that  asks  your  child!  Think 
how  good  and  lovable  He  must  be,  since  He  gives  me 
the  desire  to  leave  you  and  follow  Him!  Were  He  to 
demand  your  six  daughters,  whom  you  love  so  tenderly, 
I  believe  you  would  give  them  all.  But  He  does  not  ask 
my  sisters;  they  will  remain  with  you  to  love  you  and 
make  you  happy,  as  I  would  have  wished  to  do  all  my 
life.  Their  lot  is  beautiful,  but  mine  is  still  more 
beautiful. 

My  beloved  father,  you  will  not  refuse  your  daughter 
to  Him  who  promises  to  make  her  happy,  who  seeks  her 
only  for  the  love  He  bears  her,  and  who  will  accept  her 
without  the  goods  of  earth.  You  will  not  have  the 
courage  to  pain  me ;  you  will  not  refuse  your  consent.  I 
ask  this  favor  of  your  heart,  which  beats  only  for  the 
happiness  of  your  children.  The  same  I  also  beg  from 
my  dear  mother. 

I  did  not  have  the  courage  to  speak  to  you,  to  throw 
myself  at  your  feet  and  entreat  you  to  let  me  go.  My 
soul  needs  all  its  strength.  I  beg  you,  do  not  make  me 
lose  it  by  your  tears.  I  can  write  no  more — ah!  you 
know  me  well. 

Pray  for  me,  and  rejoice  at  a  happiness  which  makes 
me  shed  so  many  tears.  Wherever  I  may  be,  I  shall 


46  DISCLOSURE  TO  A  FRIEND 

never  cease  to  love  you  and  to  be  your  devoted  and 
cherished  IEMA. 

The  same  day  she  wrote  to  her  friend  at  Kennes : 

Saint  Servan,  June  7,  1839. 

I  have  told  my  father  all,  my  dear  Marie,  as  Abbe 
Coedro  has  written  neither  to  Abbe  Cardonnet  nor  to 
him.  Fortifying  my  heart  with  the  strength  of  God, 
I  took  my  poor  dear  father  the  letter  that  contained  my 
projects.  I  told  him  that  I  had  found  an  extremely  ad- 
vantageous offer  at  Rennes ;  that  I  had  decided  to  accept 
it  with  his  consent;  that  I  should  always  be  unhappy  if 
he  refused  me,  etc.,  etc. 

My  father  was  alone  when  I  took  him  the  fatal  letter ; 
he  was  sleeping.  Oh!  what  an  awakening!  I  hurried 
off  to  church,  and  on  my  return  I  threw  myself  weeping 
into  his  arms. 

I  then  explained  the  beginning  of  my  vocation,  its 
continuance,  and  my  decision.  I  told  him  I  intended  to 
go  to  the  United  States,  but  I  could  not  tell  him  that  it 
would  be  in  a  few  weeks  that  I  must  leave  him. 

It  is  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and  my  mother  has  just  re- 
turned from  the  country!  While  I  am  telling  you  my 
feelings,  doubtless  my  father  is  showing  her  my  letter. 
My  heart  throbs,  but  to-morrow  I  shall  receive  Holy 
Communion;  I  shall  have  my  God  to  console  me,  and 
I  shall  be  happy  again. 

It  was  with  extreme  sorrow  that  Irma's  parents 
learned  of  her  determination.  They  would  never  think 
of  refusing  their  children  to  God,  if  He  deigned  to  call 
them  to  His  service,  but  her  departure  so  soon  to  a  com- 
munity yet  to  be  founded,  to  a  country  hardly  civilized 
and  with  a  climate  so  severe;  her  delicate  health,  her 
doubtful  vocation,  the  lifelong  separation — all  these 
thoughts  together  greatly  distressed  them. 

Madame  le  Fer  had  to  see  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere; 


INTERVIEW  WITH  FATHER  BESNOIN          47 

she  also  consulted  Abbe  Coedro  and  Father  Besnoin; 
all  advised  her  to  consent  to  the  departure  which  under 
the  circumstances  appeared  to  be  a  great  imprudence. 
God  undoubtedly  wished  to  give  Monsieur  and  Madame 
le  Fer  the  opportunity  of  making  a  great  sacrifice,  and 
they  did  not  recoil  before  it. 

Irma  had  another  interview  with  Father  Besnoin, 
when  he  came  to  spend  some  days  at  Saint  Servan. 
She  now  gives  Mademoiselle  Elvire  Payan  an  account 
of  it: 

I  have  had  two  long  conversations  with  Father 
Besnoin.  Never  have  I  heard  such  words.  What  a 
future  he  predicted  for  me! — wicked  people;  foreign 
manners  and  language ;  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  world ; 
alone  in  the  midst  of  solitude;  France  two  thousand 
leagues  away;  Heaven  becoming  as  brass  to  hear  and 
help  me;  faith,  hope,  and  charity  vanishing  from  my 
soul;  my  reputation  perhaps  assailed  by  infamous 
calumny ;  hunger,  cold,  heat,  etc. 

"And  now,  my  daughter,"  he  said,  "do  you  still  wish 
to  go?" 

"Yes,  Father." 

"Very  well;  but  you  must  be  broken,  crushed,  an- 
nihilated, if  God  destines  you  to  do  good." 

I  confess,  my  dear  Elvire,  that  I  have  a  greater  dread 
of  the  desolation  of  the  soul  than  of  all  the  miseries  of 
exile  and  the  pain  of  absence.  Not  to  know  whether 
one  loves  God,  or  believes  in  Him — even  the  thought 
of  it  is  frightful!  Who,  then,  will  have  pity  on  me? 
My  God,  it  will  still  be  Thou!  I  shall  no  longer  feel 
Thy  powerful  hand,  but  it  will  nevertheless  sustain  me. 

When  I  went  to  my  mother's  room  I  was  so  pale  that 
she  had  me  take  some  orange-water.  The  words  of  the 
good  father  had  so  much  affected  me  that  the  blood  all 
but  ceased  flowing  in  my  veins. 

Think  of  it!  He  read  my  thoughts  in  my  eyes  and 
repeated  them  to  me ;  he  reproved  me  for  my  languish- 


48  GRIEF— CONSOLATION 

ing  look,  my  head  inclined  to  one  side;  he  made  me 
walk  before  him,  stand  erect,  and  look  him  full  in  the 
face.  "You  must  no  longer  be  a  poor  little  woman. 
Be  great,  be  manly,  be  manly  above  all,  before  all,"  he 
repeated  with  force.  Oh !  that  you  had  been  there,  you 
who  are  a  real  little  man.  How  often  I  thought  of 
you.  My  sisters  have  gone  to  bed — beloved  sisters, 
whom  after  a  few  days  I  shall  never  see  again. 

At  Rennes  I  looked  in  the  cemetery  for  the  cross  that 
marks  Angelina's  grave.  I  wept.  Like  her  I  die  to 
my  country,  my  family,  my  friends,  my  associations,  my 
memories.  I  die,  but  my  soul  lives;  and  to  come  near 
my  friend  I  must  tend  towards  God.  I  am  all  His; 
what  shall  I  fear? 

God,  who  always  proportions  His  graces  to  the  sacri- 
fices He  requires,  knew  how  to  sweeten  with  His  con- 
solations the  grief  Irma  felt  in  separating  from  her 
family.  She  wrote  to  her  friend  Mademoiselle  Marie 

leM : 

Saint  Servan,  July  18,  1839. 

You  are  so  kind,  my  dear  Marie,  to  take  every  op- 
portunity of  writing  to  me.  Yes,  you  will  have  to 
suffer,  and  suffer  much.  You  do  not  know  God's  will 
in  your  regard.  But  I  know  it  for  myself.  How  much 
more  peaceful  my  heart  is  than  yours!  But  that  is  a 
mistake;  both  of  us  belong  entirely  to  God — you  in 
darkness,  I  in  light;  you  in  poverty,  I  in  abundance; 
thus  our  happiness  is  the  same.  Perhaps  you  are  more 
advanced  in  the  love  of  Jesus.  I  love  the  consolations 
of  God,  and  you  the  God  of  consolations.  Abbe 
Martin,  with  whom  I  conversed  a  whole  hour  last  even- 
ing, said  that  if  God  called  me  to  do  good  it  was  impos- 
sible for  me  to  remain  in  such  spiritual  opulence. 
"Some  day,"  he  said,  "Jesus  will  make  you  drink  His 
chalice.  Will  you  refuse  to  press  your  lips  to  the  bitter 
cup  which  He  drained  to  the  very  dregs?"  When  he 
had  proved  to  me  that  all  the  saints  had  passed  through 
the  desert  of  desolation,  had  walked  in  darkness,  in  tribu- 


DEPARTURE  POSTPONED  49 

lation,  without  sensible  sweetness,  without  either  taste 
or  feeling,  it  made  me  almost  ashamed  to  be  spoiled.  I 
must  be  very  weak,  since  God  treats  me  like  a  child 
whom  the  least  difficulty  would  deject,  since  He  nour- 
ishes me,  as  Saint  Francis  de  Sales  says,  with  milk  and 
honey. 

The  day  of  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere's  departure  was 
fixed.  Havre  was  to  be  the  place  of  meeting  for  him 
and  his  co-laborers.  Suddenly  it  was  announced  that 
the  Alsatian  community  which  had  promised  subjects  to 
the  Bishop  of  Vincennes  had  withdrawn.  Whatever 
was  their  motive  for  thus  acting,  their  refusal  was 
formal  and  irrevocable,  and  Irma's  departure  was  con- 
sequently deferred.1 

The  bishop  could  not  prolong  his  stay  in  France. 
Unable  to  take  religious  with  him,  he  yet  did  not  aban- 
don the  hope  of  obtaining  some  the  following  year.  He 
acquainted  Monsieur  and  Madame  le  Fer  with  his 
proceedings  and  his  hopes,  adding  that  if  he  succeeded 
he  would  write  to  Irma,  so  that  she  could  try  her  voca- 
tion with  the  missionary  Sisters  before  accompanying 
them  to  America. 

i  Rev.  Father  Mertian,  superior  of  the  religious  of  Alsace,  who  also  were 
called  Sisters  of  Providence,  had  promised  a  sum  of  money  for  their  estab- 
lishment in  the  United  States.  When  for  reasons  unknown  to  us  he  with- 
drew from  his  agreement,  he  nevertheless  gave  the  sum  of  thirty  thousand 
francs  to  Abb6  Benoit,  who  was  sent  by  his  bishop  to  get  it.  The  land  of 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods  was  bought  with  a  part  of  this  money,  and  the 
Sisters  of  Ribeauville,  Alsace,  thus  became  the  agents  of  Providence  for  the 
Sisters  of  Ruill6-sur-Loir. 


CHAPTER  VII 

LAST  DAYS  BEFORE  IRMA's  DEPARTURE — HER 
SOJOURN   AT  SOULAINES 

1RMA  was  greatly  disappointed  at  the  delay,  but  her 
family  rejoiced  that  they  could  keep  her  with  them 
longer.  Her  mother  flattered  herself  that  perhaps 
this  was  the  means  God  would  make  use  of  to  detain  her 
daughter  in  France.  But  while  Madame  le  Fer's  heart 
was  indulging  this  hope,  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere  ap- 
plied to  the  Sisters  of  Ruille-sur-Loir.  It  was  the  time 
of  the  annual  retreat,  and  the  members  were  assembled 
to  renew  by  the  Spiritual  Exercises  their  zeal,  their  love 
for  God,  and  their  desire  to  procure  His  glory. 
Though  the  end  of  the  community  is  the  education  of 
young  girls  and  the  care  of  the  sick  in  France,  the 
Sisters  accepted  the  new  mission  offered  them,  and  con- 
sented to  send  in  the  following  year,  six  of  their  number 
to  join  the  prelate  in  America. 

The  bishop,  pleased  with  his  success,  returned  to  his 
diocese.  He  informed  Irma  of  the  arrangements  made, 
and  advised  her  to  go  to  Soulaines  to  begin  her  novitiate 
under  Mother  Theodore,  who  had  been  chosen  superior 
of  the  missionary  Sisters.  This  good  Mother  had  begged 
only  one  thing  of  her  new  bishop,  the  assurance  that 
her  little  community  should  have  the  privilege  of  Holy 
Mass  every  day.  She  would  thus  have  the  sacramental 
presence  of  Jesus,  the  happiness  of  receiving  Him 
often,  and  she  felt  that,  having  Him,  nothing  could 
shake  her  courage. 

50 


DECISION  FOR  THE  RELIGIOUS  LIFE  51 

Mother  Theodore  wrote  to  Irma  asking  her  to  come 
to  Soulaines.  She  intended  taking  her  to  Ruille  to  be 
formed  to  the  religious  life,  but  Irma's  family  desired 
to  keep  her  at  Saint  Servan,  and  she  herself  was  inclined 
to  acquiesce  in  their  wishes.  She  did  not,  however, 
recoil  from  the  sacrifice ;  not  even  for  a  moment  did  she 
hesitate.  Despite  the  assurances  she  gave  her  family 
that  she  no  longer  had  her  former  apprehensions  of  the 
religious  life,  she  was  in  no  hurry  to  embrace  it.  One 
of  her  motives  for  delaying  was  to  retain  as  long  as 
possible  the  precious  permission  of  receiving  Holy 
Communion  daily.  She  feared  this  favor  might  be 
denied  her  in  community,  and  she  knew  the  privation 
would  cost  her  much.  She  lost  sight  of  the  fact  that 
this  privilege  had  been  granted  her  not  so  much  to  make 
her  happy  as  to  make  her  strong.,  Abbe  Cardonnet  did 
not  approve  of  delay,  which  might  weaken  her  resolu- 
tion, and  in  a  rather  severe  letter  to  her  he  disregarded 
the  pretexts  of  health,  family,  and  studies,  and  con- 
cluded thus:  "When  God  calls,  death  alone  should 
hinder  you  from  starting.  Go,  then,  and  if  death  sur- 
prise you  on  the  way,  it  will  be  but  the  means  of  bring- 
ing you  sooner  to  Him." 

Irma  hesitated  no  longer,  and  November  was  the  time 
appointed  for  her  departure.  Her  brother  Charles  ac- 
companied her  to  Soulaines  to  place  her  in  Mother 
Theodore's  care. 

The  days  preceding  Irma's  departure  were  very  sad 
ones  for  the  family  who,  whilst  lavishing  marks  of  the 
greatest  tenderness  upon  her,  tried  to  conceal  their  deep 
grief,  so  as  not  to  add  to  the  sacrifice  of  this  devoted 
daughter,  this  cherished  sister.  Irma,  sustained  by 
grace,  continued  courageous,  and  preserved  that  sweet 
calm  which  might  have  appeared  indifference  to  those 


52  WITH  MOTHER  THEODORE 

who  did  not  know  the  sensitiveness  of  her  heart.  The 
very  day  of  her  departure  she  took  a  painting-lesson  at 
Lorette,  and  worked  with  as  steady  a  hand  at  her 
brother  Charles's  portrait  as  though  she  intended  re- 
turning that  very  evening  to  the  paternal  roof  which 
she  had  quitted  forever.  She  left  home  without  daring 
to  bid  adieu  to  her  father,  whose  health  would  not  permit 
painful  emotions.  She  was  soon  to  leave  her  brothers 
and  sisters,  who  were  very  dear  to  her,  and  whom  she 
would  never  see  again.  In  a  few  hours  she  would  re- 
ceive her  mother's  blessing  and  bid  her  a  final  farewell; 
yet  nothing  in  Irma's  manner  betrayed  the  feelings  of 
her  soul.  God  who  proportions  His  grace  to  the  sacri- 
fice lie  demands,  gave  Irma  the  requisite  courage,  and 
her  family  the  necessary  resignation.  Without  shed- 
ding a  tear  Irma  separated  herself  from  all  whom  she 
loved  so  intensely.  At  this  time  she  was  twenty-three 
years  of  age. 

Accompanied  by  her  brother,  Irma  left  Saint  Servan 
on  the  15th  of  November,  1839,  for  Soulaines,  a  modest 
village  where  for  the  past  six  years  Mother  Theodore 
had  been  superior.  Mother  Theodore  was  longingly 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  her  future  companion  in  exile. 
Charles  confided  Irma  to  her  at  Angers.  Mother  Theo- 
dore received  her  as  a  daughter,  as  a  dear  sister,  and 
that  day  they  formed  a  friendship  which  nothing  hence- 
forth could  weaken  or  destroy.  They  certainly  had  not 
the  same  qualifications,  but  they  had  the  same  object  in 
view,  the  same  desires,  the  same  hopes,  the  same  heart. 
To  a  tender  and  fervent  love  for  God  and  a  lively  zeal, 
Mother  Theodore  united  a  firm  and  decided  character,  a 
great  capacity  for  business,  and  a  judgment  capable  of 
understanding  and  directing  Irma.  She  sought  to  gain 


LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES  53 

Irma's  heart  and  sweeten  the  pain  of  the  sacrifice  by 
making  her  see  the  happiness  of  the  religious  life. 

Irma's  first  letters  from  Soulaines  have  been  lost. 
They  were  written  to  her  father  and  mother,  consoling 
and  cheering  them  alternately.  She  told  of  her  sorrow 
on  leaving  her  brother — the  last  member  of  the  family 
whom  she  embraced — an  adieu  which  renewed  all  the 
others. 

Irma  had  brought  with  her  to  religion  both  virtues 
and  defects.  Among  the  latter  we  shall  mention  the 
complacency  she  took  in  her  intellect,  and  her  too  great 
tenderness  for  her  family,  which  degenerated  sometimes 
into  excessive  praise.  The  first  fault  was,  from  the  be- 
ginning, attacked  at  the  root.  As  to  the  second,  her 
prudent  superior  did  not  suppress  the  abundant  sap  of 
the  young  tree  entrusted  to  her;  but,  by  pruning  and 
engrafting,  she  caused  it  to  bring  forth  wonderful  fruit 
of  the  love  of  her  family,  perfected  and  supernatural- 
ized  by  divine  love. 

IRMA  TO  HER  SISTER  CECILE 

Soulaines,  November  18,  1839. 

I  shall  not  speak  of  your  letter,  my  beloved  sister, 
otherwise  my  eyes  would  resemble  Lia's.  Yesterday  I 
left  Charles  and  the  city  of  Angers.  We  passed  the 
Ponts-de-Ce,  where  the  Vendeans  perished  so  miserably 
and  in  such  great  numbers.  The  Loire  is  admirable. 
Mother  Theodore  and  myself  traveled  in  a  carriage. 
There  was  so  much  mud  that  more  than  twenty-five 
times  I  thought  we  should  be  upset  before  reaching 
Soulaines.  These  roads  are  indescribable. 

I  heard  Mass  this  morning  in  a  barn.  A  church  is 
being  built  which  will  be  very  pretty  when  finished. 
The  village  children  come  here  to  school  and  we  are  very 
good  friends. 


54.  LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES 

Mother  Theodore  is  as  good,  amiable,  and  gracious  as 
I  expected.  She  is  tall  and  well-formed,  but  her  beau- 
tiful black  eyes  do  not  make  her  the  beauty  that  her 
cousin  described  her  to  be.  Perhaps  I  have  come  too 
late  to  see  her  in  her  splendor — "the  sun  is  declining." 

November  19. 

Last  evening  I  think  I  must  have  put  on  my  table  a 
ring  as  powerful  as  Beauty's,1  for  this  morning  I  know 
all  that  is  taking  place  at  home.  You  have  heard  my 
children's  catechism.  Love  them  well,  Cecile;  they  are 
yours  now.  If  you  can  make  them  love  God  only  a 
little,  how  happy  you  will  be  at  the  hour  of  death! 

Yesterday  I  visited  the  little  pastor  of  Soulaines. 
Monday  I  shall  pay  him  another  visit  (in  the  con- 
fessional). I  am  easily  suited  in  a  confessor,  and  I 
find  this  one  very  good.  Mother  Theodore  and  myself 
are  begging  him  to  be  our  chaplain  at  Vincennes.  It 
would  certainly  not  be  difficult  to  take  him,  for  he  could 
travel  in  a  large  box  along  with  the  mission  articles. 
Though  small,  he  has  a  good  appearance. 

We  also  visited  the  mayor.  He  told  Mother  Theo- 
dore she  had  with  her  a  pretty  postulant.  His  remark 
was  not  made  in  my  presence,  but  she  did  not  deny  me 
the  compliment.  She  had  described  me  to  her  Sisters. 
They  declared  it  was  impossible  that  her  description  was 
complete ;  I  must  have  some  "if s"  or  "buts,"  and  doubt- 
less I  was  blind  of  one  eye,  or  humpbacked.  In  regard 
to  the  latter  they  were  not  altogether  wrong;  however, 
they  said  they  were.  They  look  at  me  with  the  affection 
of  a  sister,  comb  me,  dress  me,  admire  me,  and  find  me 
charming.  ...  I  write  childishness  to  you,  but  I  must 
relate  my  success  in  the  village  of  Soulaines.  I  am  its 
Caesar  for  beauty ;  at  Rome  my  rank  would  be  lowered.2 

I  have  permission  to  write  all  I  desire  for  eight  days ; 
after  that  I  must  show  my  letters  and  ask  permission  to 

1  Allusion  to  the  story  of  "Beauty  and  the  Beast." 

2  An  allusion  to  Caesar's  saying  "I  would  rather  be  first  in  an  Iberian  vil- 
lage than  second  in  Rome." 


LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES  55 

write  them.  I  am  beginning  my  religious  education.  I 
do  not  even  know  the  A  B  C  of  community  life.  I 
have  found  with  Mother  Theodore  two  very  sweet  and 
good  young  Sisters ;  they  have  informed  me  of  the  days 
of  labor,  especially  of  humiliation,  that  await  me  at 
Ruille.  It  will  cost  me  much  to  learn  that  I  am  noth- 
ing— nothing,  less  than  nothing,  since  I  am  culpable. 
How  my  self-love  is  going  to  scream!  But  I  feel 
that,  to  renounce  myself,  I  must  make  desperate  efforts. 
With  the  grace  of  God  I  will  make  them.  I  am  called 
to  high  perfection.  Ordinary  perfection  will  not  suffice 
for  me  in  those  distant  countries,  and  God  has  brought 
me  here  that  I  may  learn  to  die  before  causing  other 
souls  to  live. 


To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

Soulaines,  November  18,  1839. 

It  was  only  after  arranging  my  room  that  I  ventured 
to  write  to  you.  If  you  only  knew  what  its  condition 
has  been  since  my  arrival  last  night!  I  have  made  my 
bed,  which  is  a  feather  bed;  it  will  soon  lose  its  plump- 
ness. 

At  Saint  Malo  I  forgot  my  Manual  with  all  the  pic- 
tures the  good  religious  had  given  me.  Think  what  a 
trick  the  good  God  played  on  me!  But,  my  poor 
Eugenie,  that  was  not  the  worst.  Imagine  Mother 
Theodore  taking  me  aside  last  evening  and,  after  a  few 
words  concerning  my  appearance,  saying  to  me :  "  My 
dear  child,  I  believe  you  are  not  vain  of  your  exterior, 
but  you  have  too  much  consideration  for  your  intellect." 
I  blushed  like  a  cock.  Think  of  it!  at  the  first  glance 
she  had  guessed  my  weakness.  She  advised  me  not  to 
display  such  amiability.  I  was  amazed;  but  I  am  pre- 
pared for  anything.  I  proposed  to  become  a  simpleton, 
but  she  would  not  agree  to  that.  Finally,  to-day  I  have 
not  uttered  a  single  witticism.  Please  tell  this  to  Cecile. 
How  clear-sighted  Mother  Theodore  is!  Her  revela- 
tions concerning  my  vanity  are  astounding.  My  dear 


56  LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES 

ones,  how  blind  you  were  in  my  regard,  how  you  spoiled 
me! 

I  have  promised  to  be  so  simple  at  Ruille  that  they 
will  think  me  like  everybody  else,  if  not  less — I  whose 
vein  of  wit  is  always  open,  I  from  whom  it  had  escaped 
in  such  sallies  for  eight  daysl  Satan  has  something  to 
do  with  it ;  it  seems  to  me  I  have  never  had  such  pretty 
thoughts,  and  now  all  is  finished!  Cecile,  my  little 
Cecile,  why  can  I  not  transfer  some  of  them  to  Vil- 
legurie  ? x  There  they  would  not  be  contraband. 
Mother  Theodore  told  me  my  style  was  too  poetic  when  I 
wrote  to  her.  What  will  it  be  then  when  Mother  Mary  2 
sees  my  letters?  They  are  going  to  flay  me  alive.  I 
hear  myself  scream  from  here.  You  are  undoubtedly 
astonished  that  I  relate  such  nonsense  to-day.  Ah !  you 
see  I  can  say  everywhere  that  I  love  you,  I  pray  for 
you,  I  think  of  you;  and  behold,  it  is  the  last  time  I 
can  open  my  heart  to  you  on  the  subject  of  wit,  for  I 
must  not  speak  of  a  thing  I  shall  not  be  supposed  to 
have. 

Mother  Theodore  said  I  shall  have  to  study  much  at 
Ruille;  this  does  not  console  me  for  the  loss  of  my  wit, 
for  I  believe  I  love  it  yet  more  than  knowledge.  But, 
my  Eugenie,  at  least  they  will  leave  me  my  heart,  this 
heart  that  loves  you  so  much.  Despite  myself  I  have 
already  begun  my  fibs.3  I  must  speak  of  you;  I  must 
persuade  others  that  you  are  a  treasure,  a  mine  of  per- 
fection. 

Well,  I  am  happy.  I  shall  only  know  how  to  love. 
I  shall  become  very  humble,  very  simple;  you  will  gain 
by  it,  since  you  will  have  one-half  of  all  the  good  I  do. 
I  need  a  great  deal  of  courage.  I  thought  that  in  leav- 
ing you  I  had  sacrificed  all.  But  no!  O  human  life, 
so  fertile  in  sacrifices,  when  wilt  thou  end  for  me?  O 
beautiful  eternity,  come  that  I  may  love  God  without 
division ;  come  that  I  may  never  more  leave  my  Eugenie ! 

1  Irma's  home. 

2  Superior  General  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence  at  Ruille'-sur-Loir. 

s  The  praises  in  favor  of  her  family.  All  of  her  brothers  and  sisters 
experienced  this  need  more  or  less,  so  they  called  it  the  family  malady. 


LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES  57 

To  HER  COUSIN  CECILE  DE  LA  SALLE 

Soulaines,  November  22,  1839. 
Feast  of  Saint  Cecilia. 

I  prayed  much  for  you  this  morning,  my  dear  Cecile, 
and  Mother  Theodore  united  her  prayers  to  mine.  She 
asked  me  whether  you  had  a  religious  vocation.  I  re- 
plied I  thought  not.  Oh!  what  a  great  grace  God  be- 
stows on  those  whom  He  calls  to  embrace  the  religious 
life.  Though  I  am  only  at  Soulaines,  I  already  sigh  for 
the  day  when  I  shall  belong  irrevocably  to  God.  Last 
evening  I  wanted  to  dress  as  a  religious,  and  we  asked 
Mother  Theodore's  permission ;  but  she  looked  at  me  and 
said,  "What!  you  would  make  sport  of  the  vesture  which 
should  be  the  price  of  your  efforts,  the  object  of  your  de- 
sires?" A  shudder  passed  over  me,  and  I  felt  that  to 
obtain  this  simple  costume  I  would  henceforth  have 
courage  to  suffer  everything.  See,  my  beloved  Cecile, 
what  God  has  done  for  your  friend.  You  know  I  can 
truly  say  "God,"  for  my  nature  has  no  inclination 
towards  the  religious  life,  which  is  so  severe  to  the  imagi- 
nation and  the  senses. 

Would  you  believe  that  I  really  wish  to  be  at  Ruille 
to  be  humbled?  It  is  not  enough  to  have  left  you  all. 
I  suffered  so  much  before  that  time  that  my  sacrifice  was 
scarcely  painful,  and  I  could  say  to  God,  "I  did  not 
think  it  was  so  sweet  to  die."  Now  if  at  Ruille  self  be 
not  crushed,  I  shall  not  advance,  for  as  regards  my  heart 
I  am  happier  here  than  at  Saint  Servan.  I  must  ad- 
vance. God  wants  my  will,  my  active  and  independent 
mind ;  He  wishes  me  to  forget  that  I  have  loved,  that  I 
have  been  loved.  Four  months  ago  I  left  you;  now  I 
must  leave  myself.  Pray  for  me,  my  cherished  Cecile; 
this  last  sacrifice  is  absolutely  necessary,  or  there  will  be 
no  America  for  your  Irma.  At  Ruille  they  refused  to 
accept  two  young  girls  whom  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere 
intended  to  take  with  him  to  Vincennes.  You  see  I 
shall  have  to  comport  myself  well,  for  this  Order  is  very 
strict. 


58  LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES 

I  am  studying  English  with  Mother  Theodore.  I 
sew  and  draw.  At  Soulaines  I  have  at  last  found  time  1 
on  the  road  to  eternity! 

To  HER  AUNT  MADAME  DE  LA  SALLE 
Soulaines,  Nov.  22,  1839 — Feast  of  Saint  Cecilia. 

To-day  is  your  feast — the  feast  on  which  I  so  much 
love  to  greet  you.  This  morning  at  Mass  I  thought  so 
constantly  of  you  all  that  I  hardly  thought  of  God.  1 
offered  my  Communion  for  the  Cecilias,  and  then  I 
divided  the  day  into  three  parts:  the  morning  was  for 
you,  the  afternoon  for  your  daughter,  the  evening  for 
your  goddaughter.2  The  offerings  I  made  for  you  were 
mud,  cold  feet,  smoke,  and  the  care  of  my  room  which  I 
swept  carefully  for  your  intention;  then  I  studied  Eng- 
lish an  hour  with  Mother  Theodore.  In  the  latter  you 
gained  nothing,  unless  it  were  the  efforts  I  made  to  re- 
frain from  repartee,  for  I  am  reforming  on  this  point. 

"Tis  not  my  fault  if  all  to  please  I  aim; 

It  is  Dame  Nature  that  must  bear  the  blame." 

If  Mother  Theodore  heard  me  say  this  how  quickly  she 
would  say,  "Proud  one  1"  Fortunately  she  will  not  see 
my  letter.  My  greatest  sacrifice  here  is  to  open  my 
mouth,  and  then  close  it  to  keep  back  a  poor,  pretty 
little  thought  which  elsewhere  would  be  good  company. 
It  is  wonderful  to  what  an  extent  you  have  spoiled  me. 
Not  one  of  you  admonished  me  of  my  intolerable  free- 
dom of  speech.  Happily  for  me,  they  leave  me  my 
manner  of  thinking,  and  of  loving  God. 

Mother  Theodore  is  broad-minded,  although  austere; 
she  is  charming  without  knowing  it,  lively  without  be- 
ing tiresome.  One  cannot  help  loving  her.  She  must 
be  one  of  those  persons  that  one  repents  to  have  known 
when  obliged  to  leave  them,  and  that  one  is  sorry  to  love 
even  while  remaining  with  them.  She  has  already 

1  "Take  care  of  the  minutes,  and  the  hours  will  take  care  of  themselves." — 
Madame  Swetchine. 

2  Irma's  sister  Cecile. 


LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES        59 

ceased  caressing  me,  and  I  have  become  jealous  of  her 
cat  Laidronne,  to  which  she  says  as  pretty  things  as 
Charles  does  to  his  Fannie* 

At  recreation  we  are  constantly  talking  of  Vincennes. 
The  two  Sisters  here  wish  to  go  with  her.  They  are 
very  good  but,  to  my  mind,  are  nothing  compared  to 
Mother  Theodore.  One  of  them,  however,  has  a  heart 
worthy  of  mine.  When  we  are  alone  we  speak  of  our 
families,  and  she  acknowledges  that  time,  instead  of  ef- 
facing her  remembrances  of  them,  makes  them  daily 
more  and  more  vivid.  This  is  dreadful !  I  do  not  dare 
to  speak  too  much  of  you  all  before  my  clear-sighted 
superior,  for  the  other  day  when  I  was  saying  that  my 
grandmother  praised  her  children  so  much,  she  re- 
marked, "So,  in  your  family  admiration  is  a  river  in- 
cessantly ascending  and  descending."  I  saw  plainly 
the  "ascending"  current  was  for  me.  .  .  .  How  lovely  I 
think  you  all  are !  How  charming  my  family  is  I  How 
good ! — this  is  what  I  think,  and  much  more.  Judge  if 
this  be  sayable,  now  that  I  must  fall  flat  into  the  mud 
of  humility.  Ah!  Lord,  put  a  bridle  on  my  tongue 
and  a  guard  of  circumspection  on  the  admiration  of  my 
heart! 

To  HEK  SISTER  PEPA 

Soulaines,  November  29,  1839. 

Guess  where  I  am  going,  my  dear  Pepa.  I  give  you 
fifty  chances — a  hundred.  Do  you  give  it  up  ?  Well,  I 
am  going  to  Tours,  and  it  is  my  good  Mother  Theodore 
who  procures  me  this  pleasure.  The  dear  Sister!  She 
may  flay  my  spirit  as  much  as  she  pleases,  since  she  so 
well  satisfies  my  heart.  I  spoke  to  her  during  dinner 
of  Elvire  Payan,  and  before  we  left  the  table  it  was  de- 
cided we  should  go  to-morrow — Friday — instead  of 
Monday.  We  shall  take  the  steamboat  and  ascend  the 
Loire,  spend  Sunday  at  Tours,  and  on  Monday  go  to 
Ruille. 

How  good  Mother  Theodore  is !    I  tell  her  about  you 

i  The  name  of  her  brother's  cat 


60  LETTERS  FROM  SOULAINES 

all,  and  she  is  almost  pained  to  think  I  described  her  as 
so  severe.  It  was  partly  in  sport,  but  after  all  there  was 
some  truth  in  it.  I  was  full  of  sallies,  and  the  least 
shock  I  received  caused  me  to  throw  out  sparks.  That 
is  all  past  now.  I  pray  you  not  to  mention  the  poor 
buried  one.  Mortuus  est  et  sepultus  est,  non  resurgat. 
I  have  taken  good  resolutions,  and  I  rather  fear  a  state 
of  torpor  than  too  much  activity.  But  your  letters  have 
given  me  several  palpitations,  and  all  night  I  was  at 
Saint  Servan.  I  dreamed  that  Mother  Theodore,  be- 
fore taking  me  to  Ruille,  brought  me  home.  I  felt  my 
courage  was  already  failing  when  she  took  me  by  the 
hand  and  led  me  aside.  "Turn  your  eyes  from  the  tears 
of  your  relatives,"  she  said,  "do  not  look  at  their  arms 
open  to  embrace  you ;  but,  my  child,  imagine  yourself  at 
the  hour  of  death.  See  the  religious  around  your  bed 
praying  for  you.  Do  you  not  hear  a  voice  from  heaven 
saying  to  you:  *  Another  moment,  my  daughter,  and 
heaven 'is  yours?  Come,  my  beloved  child,  come,  I  am 
your  God.  Behold  your  crown.  I  am  your  recom- 
pense.' '  My  heart  seemed  to  be  leaving  my  body,  and 
I  was  bounding  towards  this  ocean  of  happiness  when 
suddenly  Sister  Olympiade  opened  my  door  and  awoke 
me  by  saying,  "Live,  Jesus,  in  our  hearts!"  I  answered 
"Amen,"  sighing  at  the  same  time.  I  was  no  longer 
with  you,  and  perhaps  I  am  yet  far  from  heaven.  At 
Mass  I  wept  and  wept.  All  day  I  have  been  under  the 
influence  of  this  dream,  otherwise  I  should  not  have  writ- 
ten. My  tears  have  solaced  my  heart.  I  am  happy, 
very  happy.  After  all,  it  makes  very  little  difference 
what  constitutes  happiness,  be  it  honor,  pleasure,  or 
tears. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BTJILLE-SUR-LOIR — IRMA   IN   THE  NOVITIATE 

MOTHER  THEODORE  became  every  day 
more  interested  in  her  new  postulant,  and 
would  have  been  happy  to  have  her  remain 
with  her ;  nevertheless  she  sent  her  to  Ruille,  where  the 
novitiate,  numerous  and  fervent,  offered  advantages  for 
formation  to  the  religious  life  which  could  not  be  en- 
joyed at  Soulaines.     She  herself  accompanied  Irma  to 
the  Mother-House,  and  on  the  way  gave  her  the  consola- 
tion of  seeing  again  the  sisters  of  Angelina,  who  were 
then  living  at  Tours,  a  city  not  far  from  Ruille. 

After  these  last  hours  granted  to  friendship,  Mother 
Theodore  consigned  her  postulant  to  Mother  Mary,  the 
Superior  General,  and  to  Sister  Eudoxie,  the  Mistress 
of  Novices ;  she  then  returned  to  Soulaines  to  await  the 
orders  of  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere.  When  the  time  of 
departure  should  be  decided  upon,  Irma  was  to  return 
to  her  in  order  that  they,  with  their  companions,  might 
embark  for  the  United  States. 

In  the  following  letter  to  one  of  her  younger  sisters, 
Irma  gives  an  account  of  her  visit  to  Tours  and  of  her 
arrival  at  Ruille.  How  greatly  she  feared  her  entrance 
into  the  novitiate  is  disclosed  in  the  succeeding  letter  to 
her  mother. 

To  HER  SISTER  ELVIRE 

Ruille,  December  7,  1839. 

It  is  your  turn  now,  dear  little  sister.  I  am  not  going 
to  speak  to-day  of  a  ramble  among  the  cows  and  sheep ; 

61 


62  VISIT  TO  TOURS 

I  intend  to  tell  about  a  grand  journey  among  high  and 
holy  persons,  among  large  and  beautiful  edifices, — my 
trip  to  Tours.  It  was  decided  subito;  all  was  con- 
cluded in  an  hour. 

We  took  a  steamer  at  Angers.  The  passage  was  de- 
lightful. I  sketched  from  the  deck,  but,  notwithstand- 
ing the  magnificence  of  the  different  scenes,  I  was 
anxious  for  five  o'clock  to  come  in  order  to  embrace 
Elvire.1  I  did  not  have  time  to  write  to  her,  and  I 
was  a  little  fearful  of  her  aunts.  All  went  on  beau- 
tifully, however,  except  a  frightful  nervous  attack 
that  Elvire  had  on  seeing  me.  The  little  cure  2  has 
inimitable  and  unsearchable  eyes.  I  find  him  admirable 
as  a  ruin,  and  would  feel  more  inclined  to  weep  over 
the  fragments  of  his  intellect  than  over  Sparta  and 
Carthage.  It  is  pitiable!  I  think  before  long  he  will 
be  exempted  from  duty.  I  went  to  the  Ursuline  con- 
vent to  see  Madame  de  Lignac.  She  is  a  religious 
queen.  Never  did  I  see  such  majestic  sanctity.  Abbe 
Dufetre  did  not  please  me  so  much;  he  seemed  very 
busy.  He  will  leave  in  the  spring  to  preach  to  the 
priests  of  the  United  States. 

The  Cathedral  of  Tours  is  beyond  description.  The 
stained  glass  windows,  and  particularly  the  beauty  of 
the  towers,  riveted  me  to  the  spot  from  which  I  viewed 
them ;  but  I  did  not  have  time  to  sketch  anything.  They 
claim  to  officiate  better  here  than  at  Paris.  I  cannot  be 
the  judge  as  to  the  truth  of  their  assertion,  but  they  dis- 
play a  religious  pomp  of  which  Rennes  gave  me  no 
idea. 

Last  Monday  we  took  breakfast  with  Madame  de  la 
Valette.  She  found  dear  Mother  Theodore  perfectly 
charming,  which  caused  me  great  joy.  You  were  right 
in  thinking  Elvire  Payan  would  want  to  be  a  religious. 
The  evening  I  arrived  she  received  a  letter  from  Aunt 
Marie,  telling  her  of  my  departure.  She  wept  bitterly 
while  reading  it,  and  it  was  I  who  was  consoling  her  for 

1  Elvire  Payan,  the  sister  of  Angelina. 

2  Elvire  Payan's  uncle,  pastor  of  the  cathedral.    He  was  humpbacked  and 
had  had  an  attack  of  paralysis. 


AT  RUILLE-SUR-LOIR  63 

my  departure;  we  ended  in  peals  of  laughter.  You 
know  Elvire.  She  is  more  herself  than  ever.  Her 
sister  Marie  has  not  changed  at  all;  she  is  just  as  you 
saw  her  when  she  was  at  Saint  Servan.  While  writing 
to  you  I  feel  as  I  did  when  standing  before  the  towers  of 
Saint  Gatien — I  do  not  know  when  to  leave  you.  I  have 
so  many  things  to  say !  I  desire  so  much  to  urge  you  to 
be  good  in  order  to  please  God,  to  be  gentle  with  Cecile, 
to  be  kind  to  everybody;  but  especially  I  beg  you  to* 
watch  over  Clementine,  my  godchild;  help  her  to  save 
her  soul.1 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Ruille,  December  9,  1839. 

At  last  I  am  at  Ruille,  my  dear  mother,  this  Ruille  of 
which  I  was  so  much  afraid  at  a  distance,  and  which 
pleases  me  so  much  now;  yes,  pleases  me,  because  here  I 
hope  to  learn  to  love  God  and  to  esteem  myself  at  my 
real  value.  Here  also  I  shall  learn  absence,  which  is  so 
difficult  a  science,  especially  since  it  is  far  from  you  that 
it  has  to  be  practiced  for  the  first  time. 

I  arrived  at  Ruille  last  Monday  night.  All  the  doors 
were  closed.  It  was  not  without  a  throbbing  heart  that 
I  heard  the  unfastening  of  the  bolts  and  saw  this  vast 
edifice  which,  rising  before  me  in  the  silence  of  the  night, 
filled  my  heart  with  emotion.  But  the  feeling  I  ex- 
perienced in  the  church  was  deeper  still.  Mother  Theo- 
dore took  me  there.  Midnight  struck — I  had  just 
passed  my  last  day  in  the  world !  Oh !  I  did  not  regret 
it.  I  fell  on  my  knees  and  wept,  and  before  the  altar 
of  God  I  offered  myself  entirely,  and  you,  also,  my  be- 
loved parents.  It  is  here  in  this  chapel,  I  thought,  that 
in  a  few  short  months  I  shall  be  clothed  in  the  religious 
dress.  Here  I  shall  find  happiness,  for  here  is  my  God. 
Then  I  thought  of  you,  of  America,  of  heaven,  of  every- 
thing. My  heart  beat  so  loud  that  it  seemed  to  me 

i  Irma's  letters  home  may  seem  more  frequent  than  they  really  were.  She 
•would  write  a  page  one  day  to  one,  another  day  to  another,  and  finally  send 
them  all  together  as  one  letter. 


64  IN  THE  NOVITIATE 

Mother  Theodore  must  have  heard  it.  Poor  Mother! 
doubtless  she,  too,  was  touched.  She  presented  to  God 
the  companion  of  her  exile,  the  child  of  her  hope.  And 
besides,  she  was  at  Ruille — Ruille,  the  Jerusalem  of  the 
Sisters  of  Providence  towards  which  their  thoughts  con- 
stantly turn.  Perhaps  I  shall  feel  the  same  some  day. 
When  I  found  myself  alone  in  my  little  cell  another 
emotion  seized  me ;  but  I  quickly  called  on  God  for  help, 
and  I  slept  tranquilly  in  His  arms. 

The  next  morning  I  arose  at  nine  o'clock.  Shortly 
after,  Mother  Theodore  presented  me  to  the  Superior 
General,  the  good  Mother  Mary  of  whom  I  was  so  much 
afraid.  She  is  just  as  Abbe  Coe'dro  described  her;  she 
has  a  severe  spiritual  look,  but  after  some  moments  of 
embarrassment  one  feels  quite  at  ease  with  her.  I  re- 
mained with  her  until  noon  and  found  her  perfectly 
delightful.  I  also  saw  Sister  Saint  Charles,  whose 
attraction,  the  Sisters  of  Soulaines  had  told  me,  no 
one  could  resist.  For  fear  of  loving  her  too  much,  I 
shall  not  speak  to  her  again;  so,  unless  the  epidemic  be 
in  the  air,  I  shall  surely  escape.  As  to  dear  Sister 
Eudoxie,1  I  intend  giving  her  my  heart  and  soul  im- 
mediately. This  letter  is  for  my  beloved  father  too; 
you  both  well  know  the  sincere  and  devoted  affection  of 
your  daughter  Irma,  since  yesterday 

SISTER  SAINT  FRANCIS  XAVIER. 


To  HER  SISTER  CLEMENTINE 

Ruille,  December  12,  1839. 

My  dear  little  Clementine :  It  is  here  in  a  large  class- 
room, with  a  small  inkstand  inserted  in  the  table,  that  I 
write  to  you.  The  pupils  are  numerous,  and  behold 
your  godmother,  your  mistress,  in  the  ranks  of  the 
battalion.  I  am  not  afraid  of  this  warfare.  The  hours 
devoted  to  study  are  from  nine  till  twelve  in  the  fore- 
noon, and  from  two  till  four  in  the  afternoon.  From 
five  till  six  we  have  geography  and  pharmacy.  I  am  not 

i  Mistress  of  Novices. 


IN  THE  NOVITIATE  65 

the  less  happy  for  this  kind  of  life ;  it  has  infinite  charms 
for  me. 

If  I  obtain  permission  I  am  going  to  continue  my 
Latin,  for  the  English- Americans  like  to  dip  into  every- 
thing, and  I  noticed  in  an  American  almanac  that  Latin 
is  taught  in  the  schools  for  young  ladies.  At  recreation- 
time  the  Sisters  intend  showing  me  how  to  make  all  sorts 
of  pjetty  fancy-work,  such  as  pincushions,  tapestry, 
embroidery,  etc.,  etc.  You  see,  Mademoiselle  Eugenie, 
I  was  right  in  wishing  to  make  flowers,  for  now  I  am 
obliged  to  learn  how  to  do  so.  I  forgot  my  excellent 
mucilage,  and,  indeed,  I  regret  it  very  much.  I 
thought  I  had  left  all  my  distractions  at  Saint  Servan, 
because  at  Soulaines  I  had  none ;  but  seven  times  yester- 
day I  went  to  a  wretched  garret  instead  of  going  to  the 
room  where  my  clothes  are  kept.  I  could  have  cried 
for  vexation;  for  I  was  among  the  "oppressed,"  as 
Madame  Foote  would  say,  and  half  dead  from  ascending 
so  often. 

When  you  see  Abbe  le  Pailleur,1  ask  him  to  pray  for 
me.  If  you  forget,  you  will  be  obliged  to  make  your 
prayers  longer  or  you  will  wrong  me.  Adieu,  my  dar- 
ling godchild. 

To  HER  SISTER  PEPA 

Ruille,  1839 

It  did  me  so  much  good  to  get  your  letter,  my  dear 
Pepa.  You  are  calm ;  for  this  we  must  both  thank  God. 
I  shall  receive  Holy  Communion  for  you  the  first  Sun- 
day of  every  month  for  a  whole  year.  The  same  even- 
ing I  shall  pray  Jesus,  our  divine  Mediator,  to  intercede 
for  you  during  the  night.  You  see  I  have  resources. 
When  I  leave  the  chapel  to  go  to  bed  I  say  to  Jesus: 
I  am  going  to  sleep,  but  Thou,  my  good  Father,  dost 
never  sleep.  Intercede  for  my  sister  Pepa — or  for  some 
one  else.  You  understand  what  you  gain  by  this. 

You  ask  me  what  would  be  found  too  much  in  you  at 

i  Founder  of  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor.    He  was  then  vicar  at  Saint 
Servan  and  Clementine's  confessor. 


66  IN  THE  NOVITIATE 

Ruille.  After  close  examination  I  conclude  they  would 
cut  off  a  little  bit  of  your  tongue.  This  is  all  I  find. 
No,  I  am  mistaken,  a  great  number  of  scruples.  You 
should  see  how  our  Mother  would  make  you  walk.  She 
would  not  leave  you  even  the  skin  of  one.  In  this  re- 
spect, I  was  entirely  stripped  before  I  came  here. 

When  I  see  myself  in  a  religious  community,  reciting 
Office,  I  say,  "Is  it  really  myself?"  I  do  not  know 
which  should  astonish  me  most,  the  goodness  of  God  who 
has  called  me,  the  patience  with  which  they  bear  with  me, 
or  to  see  myself  in  a  religious  house  with  inclinations  so 
opposed.  Not  that  they  are  now  contrary  to  what  I 
see  or  do,  but  to  what,  before  coming  here,  I  thought  I 
should  have  to  see  and  do. 

Your  sweet  vision  deeply  touched  me.  Often  in  my 
dreams  I  see  you  all  again,  and  truly,  my  dear  Pepa, 
such  happy  moments  are  a  presage  of  our  future  hap- 
piness in  the  arms  of  God.  There  we  shall  be  reunited, 
never  again  to  be  separated. 

I  am  spoiling  you  now,  little  sister,  for  you  are  for- 
getting some  of  your  old  debts;  but  what  matter? 

To  HER  BROTHER  EUGENE 

Ruille,  1839. 

How  much  good  your  letter  did  me,  my  dea,r  Eugene. 
I  live  with  the  consoling  thought  that  my  cherished  child 
will  be  a  virtuous  and  perfect  Christian.  I  suffer,  but 
I  hope;  I  suffer,  because  I  must  tear  myself  away  from 
all  I  love ;  I  hope,  because  God  will  take  care  of  you  and 
protect  you.  I  have  given  Him  my  joy  in  this  world  by 
separating  myself  from  my  darlings.  He  will  return 
them  to  me  in  heaven,  where  I  shall  never  more  leave 
them.  If  I  die  first  I  shall  expect  you,  and  I  will  ask 
God  to  grant  me  the  privilege  of  placing  on  your  brow 
the  beautiful  crown  of  eternity.  It  will  not  wither  like 
the  laurel  they  placed  on  your  head  at  the  distribution  of 
prizes.  You  will  bring  me  your  work,  the  copybook  of 
your  life,  a  book  without  blot  or  erasure.  You  will 
have  done  all  for  God  and  for  me,  and  you  will  say  as  of 


IN  THE  NOVITIATE  67 

old,  "Look,  Irma,  are  you  pleased  with  your  child?" 
How  many  things  we  shall  have  to  talk  about  when  we 
meet  again !  You  will  be  grown,  you  will  be  acquainted 
with  men.  They  are  nearly  all  wicked,  but  they  are  all 
our  brothers,  and  we  must  love  them  and  pray  for  them. 
I  fear  the  influence  that  light  and  irreligious  friends  may 
have  upon  you.  Your  heart  is  weak.  I  remember 
showing  you  at  harvest  time  some  tall  grasses  bending 
with  the  wind  in  every  direction.  Like  these  grasses, 
my  child,  you  bend,  you  yield ;  but  you  will  be  fortunate 
if,  like  them,  you  do  not  break.  Remember  amid  com- 
bats the  sweet  peace  of  your  soul  on  the  eve  and  day  of 
your  First  Communion.  Ah!  how  I  wish  that  the  evils 
which  await  you  might  fall  upon  me !  But  no,  I  do  not 
wish  it,  because  some  day  you  will  be  happy  to  have 
suffered  for  Jesus  Christ.  At  Rennes  I  saw  oxen  yoked 
in  pairs  to  the  same  plow.  Let  us  both  place  our 
heads  under  the  sacred  wood  of  the  cross,  and  we  shall 
have  more  strength  and  consolation  to  draw  the  heavy 
cart  of  human  life  in  the  labor  of  each  day. 

I  wept  when  I  received  your  good  letter,  and  I  weep 
now  while  writing  to  you.  A  day  will  come  when  our 
tears  will  be  changed  into  pearls  to  adorn  our  crown. 
But  then,  if  we  shed  tears,  Jesus  has  shed  His  Blood. 
Let  us  love  Jesus  who  has  suffered  so  much  for  us.  Let 
us  love  Him  in  the  sacrament  of  the  Eucharist  particu- 
larly. May  this  sacrament  be  our  strength,  our  refuge, 
our  all,  as  it  is  the  pledge  of  our  eternal  happiness! 
Poor  Clementine  is  very  sad  because  of  my  departure. 
I  confide  her  to  both  of  you.  Eugene,  Paul,  Clemen- 
tine, my  dear  children,  love  one  another  very  much,  and 
sometimes  think  of  your  Irma  who  brought  you  up  with 
so  much  tenderness,  and  who,  in  her  exile,  prays  daily 
for  you. 

To  HER  BROTHER  CHARLES 

Ruille-sur-Loir,  December,  1839. 
I  do  not  forget  your  kindness  to  me,  but  I  do  not  wish 
to  dwell  on  my  sorrow  at  leaving  you.     Here  the  su- 


68  IN  THE  NOVITIATE 

perior  tries  to  reform  me,  in  order,  she  says,  to  please 
that  good  M.  Charles,  who  desires  so  much  to  see 
his  sister  like  every  one  else.  She  is  a  worthy  suc- 
cessor of  Mother  Theodore  in  this  respect.  As  to  the 
body,  I  am  an  exceptional  case:  I  rise  later  than  my 
companions ;  at  eight  o'clock  I  go  to  the  kitchen  to  take 
some  excellent  coffee ;  every  evening  I  find  a  nice  bottle 
of  hot  water  in  my  bed ;  so  you  see,  everywhere  the  Lord 
provides  charitable  persons  to  take  care  of  me. 

Tell  my  mother  not  to  trouble  herself  about  my  hair- 
dressing;  here  we  comb  one  another,  and  yesterday  I  had 
a  great  many  customers ;  but  on  leaving  my  hands  they 
made  so  poor  an  appearance  that  Sister  Eudoxie  ex- 
empted me  in  future  from  this  employment. 

Irma  then  tells  her  brother  about  losing  her  purse, 
and  finding  it  again  in  the  chapel  without  knowing  who 
had  put  it  there,  and  she  adds : 

This  time  I  could  say,  "Where  my  treasure  is  there  is 
my  heart,"  with  Jesus  in  the  holy  Eucharist.  O  my 
God!  if  I  could  only  give  you  all  as  easily  as  my  fortune. 
O  my  family!  treasure  too  precious,  treasure,  too  much 
loved!  I  offer  you  a  thousand  times  but  always  take 
you  back.  There  are  some  young  persons  here  whom  I 
pity  very  much.  One  of  them  received  from  her  mother 
these  lines,  "Well,  my  daughter,  be  happy  at  Ruille, 
since  you  cannot  be  happy  with  us.  .  .  ."  Ah!  never 
write  me  such  words.  I  was  happy  with  you  all,  but 
God  reserved  for  me  purer  and  holier  joys  than  the 
sweet  ones  of  the  family.  Let  us  bless  Him  together. 

It  has  just  struck  nine  o'clock.  At  this  hour,  at  noon, 
at  three,  and  at  six,  we  say  a  prayer  to  the  Heart  of 
Jesus.  It  is  then  that  I  think  specially  of  you,  of 
Henri,  and  of  all  my  beloved  brothers. 

Tell  little  Louis  we  have  some  pretty  cats  here.  I 
shall  learn  their  names  soon  and  then  tell  him.  Like 
those  of  Soulaines,  they  are  somewhat  familiar. 
Mother  Theodore  has  a  great  fondness  for  cats,  dogs, 
and  sailors. 


IN  THE  NOVITIATE  69 

From  the  letters  next  introduced  we  shall  see  that 
Mother  Mary  promptly  endeavored  to  restrain  and 
direct  Irma's  imagination.  With  this  intention  she  per- 
mitted her  neither  to  read  nor  write  anything  which 
might  exalt  it;  and  to  detach  her  from  the  esteem  she 
had  for  her  own  productions,  she  burned  all  the  papers 
that  the  new  postulant  gave  her.  Yet,  not  wishing  to 
deprive  her  entirely  of  what  had  become  so  necessary 
to  her  existence,  the  kind  superior  gave  her  full  liberty 
to  satisfy  her  relatives  who  entreated  her  to  write  long 
and  frequent  letters.  Her  health  not  permitting  her  to 
perform  any  heavy  employment  in  the  novitiate,  she  had 
more  time  to  give  to  her  correspondence.1  The  follow- 
ing letters  are  dated  at  Ruille.  Later  she  did  not  have 
so  much  leisure  to  devote  to  her  family. 

To  HER  SISTER  CLEMENTINE 

December,  1839. 

I  assure  you,  my  good  little  godchild,  that  your  big 
letter  with  all  its  details  interested  me  very  much.  Al- 
ways write  the  same  way ;  tell  me  all  that  passes  in  your 
soul.  It  was  very  sick  before  Christmas.  I  hope  God 
who  is  so  powerful  has  cured  it.  And  when  you  see 
Jesus  becoming  so  little,  so  humble  for  love  of  you,  you 
will  not  be  ashamed  to  acknowledge  that  your  hat  is  cot- 
ton velvet.  O  my  dear  child!  look  at  your  Savior's 
attire;  His  crown,  a  crown  of  thorns;  His  royal  robe,  an 
old  purple  mantle;  His  sceptre,  a  reed  which  breaks  so 
easily.  Now  do  you  not  wish  to  resemble  Him?  What 
is  the  world  to  you?  Jesus  Christ  has  cursed  it. 
Would  you  wish  to  please  that  which  God  has  cursed? 
True,  when  I  was  of  your  age  I  was  like  you.  I  was 
angry  at  having  to  put  on  my  old  woolen  dress,  and  at 
thirteen  I  cried  a  whole  evening  to  obtain  permission  to 

i  To  shorten  this  correspondence,  we  have  suppressed  whatever  related 
personally  to  Irma's  brothers  and  sisters.  We  also  pass  over  the  endearing 
words  with  which  her  letters  begin  and  end. 


70  IN  THE  NOVITIATE 

wear  my  white  dress  at  the  distribution  of  prizes,  when 
mamma  wished  me  to  appear  in  mourning. 

I  superintend  the  recreations  here.  Sister  Eudoxie 
gave  me  the  charge ;  it  is  my  only  employment.  Every 
Sunday  I  have  the  postulants  play  at  some  game ;  some- 
times at  guessing  or  finishing  a  word,  sometimes  at 
homonyms,  and  sometimes  at  guersillette,  or  even  at 
conjurer.  Last  Sunday  I  taught  them  to  play  biribi. 
They  almost  had  a  fever  for  fear  of  losing  their  chairs. 
They  are  unable  to  amuse  themselves  without  me,  and  I 
must  say  this  annoys  me  somewhat,  but  I  offer  it  to 
Our  Lord.  I  am  humiliated  to  think  that  I  am  good  for 
nothing  but  to  divert  the  postulants;  but  during  the 
week  they  pay  me  a  hundredfold  for  their  Sunday  rec- 
reation. 

The  perfect  Adele  of  whom  I  spoke  to  my  sisters  is 
not  here,  but  at  Soulaines.  She  is  a  very  prepossessing 
child.  It  is  not  necessary  to  say  to  her,  "Adele,  go  here, 
go  there,  please  get  me  such  a  thing."  If  one  says  "My 
feet  are  cold,"  she  quickly  brings  a  foot-warmer.  A 
knock  is  scarcely  heard  at  the  door  when  she  is  ready  to 
open  it.  She  is  very  bright  for  her  age,  and  one  even- 
ing when  I  was  giving  catechism  to  the  little  girls,  she 
astonished  me  by  her  penetration  and  the  deep  reflec- 
tions she  made  on  the  answers  given.  I  was  jealous  that 
this  little  girl  was  not  my  Clementine,  or  rather  that  my 
little  godchild  did  not  resemble  her;  for  Adele  is  as  pious 
as  she  is  gentle  and  amiable.  She  does  not  look  to  see 
whether  her  plush  hat  and  winter  dress  are  finer  than 
those  of  her  companions.  I  pray  God  to  make  you  like 
her  except  in  one  thing — the  poor  child  has  epilepsy. 

I  have  also  seen  some  little  girls  at  Ruille  whose  copy- 
books are  very  neat ;  there  is  not  a  single  one  written  so 
badly  as  yours.  Here  again  I  am  jealous.  Now,  dear 
little  Clementine,  distinguish  yourself,  first  by  your 
goodness,  then  by  your  knowledge.  Be  kind,  to  please 
Jesus.  You  have  more  merit  than  another  when  you 
smile  and  are  amiable  to  all,  for  you  were  born  as  dry 
as  an  old  faggot  that  has  been  cut  fifteen  years. 


CHRISTMAS  AT  RUILLE  71 

To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

To-day  is  Christmas!  We  had  Midnight  Mass  and 
our  chapel  was  beautiful.  Very  touching  canticles  were 
sung  during  some  parts  of  the  Masses.  God  has  been 
very  good  to  me.  I  was  happy,  happy  even  far  from 
Lorette.  I  was  very  sad  last  evening  at  the  recreation, 
and,  being  seated  near  Sister  Eudoxie,  I  spoke  to  her  of 
you  all.  She  permitted  me  to  go  in  spirit  to  embrace 
you,  on  condition  that  I  should  return  for  Midnight 
Mass.  At  half-past  nine  we  went  to  make  our  toilet, 
and  I  felt  as  sad  as  before.  Fortunately,  on  coming 
down  I  met  the  superior  and  asked  permission  to  speak 
to  her.  She  sent  me  to  get  the  key  of  her  room,  which 
she  had  in  her  pocket  (this  is  one  of  her  many  distrac- 
tions), and  when  I  returned  to  say  I  could  not  find  it, 
she  was  sitting  in  her  room  waiting  for  me.  We 
laughed,  then  talked,  and  she  allowed  me  to  think  of 
you ;  but  she  forbids  all  thoughts  which  might  excite  my 
imagination,  so  I  write  that  way  no  more.  I  have  no 
other  tablet  than  that  of  my  heart,  and  its  pages  do  not 
fill  rapidly,  for  I  am  like  a  stone.  I  have  given  her  the 
children  of  my  imagination,  if  such  they  may  be  called.1 
I  do  not  know  what  she  will  do  with  them,  but  she  makes 
such  fun  of  the  poor  little  things  that  you  would  pity 
me. 

You  know,  Eugenie,  how  I  wished  to  find  some  one 
who  would  make  me  think,  as  you  made  me  live.  Well, 
I  have  met  such  a  one  in  our  Mother.  I  can  say  what 
Paul  said  the  day  I  asked  him,  "Who  had  care  of  your 
soul  while  I  was  sick?"  "Not  I,  surely,"  he  replied. 
You  know  how  lazy  I  am,  how  easily  I  trust  everything 
to  others.  I  have  nothing  now — not  a  cent,  not  even  my 
soul.  See  how  free,  how  detached  and  despoiled  I  am! 
O  excellent  thing! 

Five  o'clock  P.M. 

Admire  my  exactitude.  The  bell  rang  for  Vespers 
and  I  left  you  immediately,  for  yesterday  I  heard  in  the 

1  All  her  writings. 


72  CHRISTMAS  AT  RUILLE 

reading  that  good  religious  will  not  even  finish  a  letter 
half -formed  when  the  bell  calls  them.  Here  I  am  back. 
I  asked  a  blessing  for  you  and  all  the  others.  I  offered 
myself  anew  to  Mary.  I  am  going  to  live  at  Bethlehem 
until  the  Purification.  If  you  wish  to  find  me,  seek  me 
there.  I  often  speak  of  you,  and  as  usual  it  is  impossible 
not  to  praise  you.  Now  in  1840  I  must  be  converted, 
and  limit  myself  to  saying  that  you  knew  how  to  love  me 
and  how  to  spoil  me. 

To-day  we  have  had  roast,  dessert,  and  permission  to 
talk  at  table.  The  countess  l  came  to  spend  the  feast 
here.  (At  last  I  have  learned  what  is  meant  by  "the 
room  of  madame  the  countess") .  They  took  me  to  pay 
her  a  visit,  warning  me  to  hold  myself  erect,  etc.  Cer- 
tainly I  was  very  modest ;  I  did  not  say  four  words.  It 
could  not  be  otherwise,  for  she  talked  all  the  time.  She 
is  full  of  wit,  but  I  am  sure  the  devil  found  it  out  before 
I  did.  She  is  a  diminutive  person  with  very  fine  man- 
ners, and  she  preserves  perfectly  all  that  nature  be- 
stowed on  her,  except  what  time  carries  away.  Ah, 
my  dear  Eugenie,  what  a  mischievous  thing  time  is! — 
Here  the  days  and  hours  fly  more  rapidly  than  at  Saint 
Servan — Oh!  let  us  go  with  it,  let  us  pass  with  it,  since 
it  will  bear  us  toward  our  Ocean,  toward  God.  O  Sea, 
boundless  and  unfathomable,  let  our  souls  be  lost  in 
Thee! 

To  HER  COUSIN  CECILE 

Ruille,  January  19, 1840. 

More  fortunate  than  I,  you  are  able  to  concentrate 
yourself  in  God,  while  I  feel  I  must  give  myself  out.  I 
must  pour  out  my  heart,  I  must  say,  "Let  us  love  God, 
He  is  so  good."  Cecile,  I  have  no  one  here  to  encourage, 
to  exhort;  every  one  is  better  than  I  am.  Old  Made- 
leine 2  was  sick  the  other  day  and  I  went  to  see  her. 
Imagine  what  a  sermon  I  preached.  It  brought  to  my 

1  Countess  de  Maresco,  a  benefactor  of  the  Community. 

2  A  maid  in  the  convent  at  RuiHd-sur-Loir. 


CHRISTMAS  AT  RUILLE  73 

mind  the  good  old  times  when  I  used  to  console  my  own 
dear  poor.  While  thinking  of  it  I  wept  for  joy. 
Really,  there  are  some  days  when,  if  I  dared,  I  would  say 
to  the  superior,  "Permit  me,  Mother,  to  preach  to  you  a 
little."  I  must  be  occupied  with  my  soul,  and  nothing 
but  my  soul.  It  is  truly  fallow  ground,  but  I  must  sow 
in  it  if  I  wish  to  reap  in  others. 

Father  Besnoin  found  me  nearly  as  he  left  me  last 
summer.  I  am  sure  he  earnestly  recommended  that  I 
should  be  humbled  greatly,  and  he  himself  did  not  spare 
me.  He  was  charming  at  Ruille ;  the  postulants  wished 
to  keep  him  to  preach  a  retreat.  He  gave  two  little  ser- 
mons in  his  own  fashion.  Saturday  evening  the  carriage 
was  sent  to  Chatre  for  him,  and  Sunday  evening  at  nine 
o'clock  it  took  him  back  again.  He  intends  writing  to 
my  father  to  tell  him  that  I  am  well,  though  my  head  is 
still  turned  to  one  side.  He  found  me  a  poor  little 
woman,  as  weak  as  asparagus  after  it  is  taken  out  of  boil- 
ing water,  a  creature  whom  a  puff  of  wind  would  turn 
topsy-turvy,  etc.  He  was  in  his  happiest  mood.  I  bit 
my  lips  more  than  once  to  keep  from  laughing.  He  was 
well  received  and  much  liked  here.  He  said  his  Mass 
for  all  the  Le  Fer  family,  but  he  always  loves  grand- 
mother above  all  the  rest.  I  thanked  God  for  having 
sent  me  the  visit  of  this  good  old  cure ;  it  was  a  reminder 
of  Saint  Servan,  a  bright  ray  of  sunshine  in  winter ;  and, 
although  he  stifled  my  self-love,  he  did  my  heart  so  much 
good  that  I  felt  very  happy.  I  was  in  my  talking  mood 
last  Sunday  and  whatever  Father  Besnoin  may  have 
said,  I  assure  you,  Cecile,  I  was  very  amiable.  .  .  . 

I  am  glad  you  saw  the  "Deluge"  painted  by  Danby. 
Dear  drawing  lessons!  I  do  not  forget  them.  Now, 
Cecile,  let  us  paint  Jesus  Christ  on  the  canvas  of  our 
hearts.  He  is  so  beautiful  I  Let  us  look  at  Him  in  the 
sweet  light  of  faith,  in  the  pure  day  of  His  love.  Our 
brushes  are  unskillful,  our  colors  dull,  our  canvas  badly 
stretched,  but  it  is  Jesus  who  is  our  model.  We  shall 
take  Him  with  us  to  heaven,  and  the  Eternal  Father  will 
recognize  the  cherished  image. 


74  LETTERS  TO  HER  SISTERS 

To  HER  SISTER  CECILE 

Ruille-sur-Loir,  January,  1840. 

The  superior  intends  going  to  Saint  Servan  soon, 
Cecile.  I  wish  you  to  speak  privately  to  her.  Do  not 
be  afraid;  you  will  not  suffer  more  than  I  did  the  first 
time  she  asked  for  me.  It  was  on  Friday,  three  days 
after  my  arrival.  Mother  Theodore  desired  me  to  go 
alone,  but  I  became  so  nervous  that  she  accompanied  me. 
Scarcely  had  I  entered,  however,  when  she  withdrew. 
I  thought  I  should  faint,  especially  when  I  had  to  reply 
to  Mother's  questions. 

You  will  find  me  entirely  in  her,  for  she  has  taken  my 
soul,  my  confidence,  and  my  heart.  She  said  there  was 
no  danger  of  my  loving  her  too  much,  as  she  is  wicked, 
ugly  and  old.  Yesterday  after  dinner  I  began  to  think 
she  was  right,  for  she  sent  one  of  my  letters  to  the  fire, 
and  you  may  judge  whether  this  pleased  me.  After  I 
had  reflected  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  however,  my 
judgment  approved  her  act.  I  do  not  think  she  has 
ever  commanded  me  anything  contrary  to  my  reason. 
Sister  Eudoxie  has  a  great  partiality  for  you;  she  at- 
tributes this  to  your  resemblance  to  me,  for  I  have  said 
ever  so  much  more  good  of  Eugenie.  Our  Mother  says 
you  are  my  second  volume.  The  other  day  she  held 
some  pictures  in  her  hand  and  said,  "Send  this  one  from 
me  to  your  sister  Cecile,  who  is  a  likeness  of  you." 

To  HER  SISTERS 

January,  1840. 

There  arises  from  nearly  all  the  letters  that  I  have 
had  the  happiness  to  receive  a  cloud  of  reproaches  that 
somewhat  darken  my  joy.  A  cry  that  goes  straight  to 
my  heart  comes  from  them,  "Write  to  me."  Dear  girls, 
change  your  pleading  and  say  rather,  "Love  me."  Oh! 
how  easy  it  would  be  then  for  me  to  satisfy  you.  You 
know  how  I  think  of  you.  My  poor  sinners,  Tours, 
Rennes,  Brest,  Soulaines,  do  you  not  see  the  demands  all 
these  make  on  my  pen?  True,  dear  Pepa,  I  had  put  you 


LETTERS  TO  HER  SISTERS  75 

among  my  "afflicted"  and  so  you  should  have  more  right 
to  consoling  messages  than  any  one  else.  Oh !  why  put 
your  heart  on  the  waves  and  thus  lean  on  a  reed  so 
fragile  as  your  Irma?  Have  courage,  dear  little  sister. 
There  is  some  in  your  soul,  but  still  more  in  the  Heart  of 
Jesus.  There  you  will  be  consoled. 

Adieu,  beloved  sisters.  Thank  for  me  a  thousand 
times  those  dear  friends  who  have  written.  Tell  them 
my  heart  is  theirs;  and  believe  me,  my  dear  ones,  you 
have  not  left  it  a  single  instant. 

To  HER  SISTER  PEPA 

What  you  told  me  in  your  last  letter,  dear  Pepa,  made 
me  pray  that  God  may  enlighten  you.  It  does  not  seem 
to  me  necessary  that  you  know  your  vocation  now. 
Truly,  though  I  was  not  troubled  about  mine,  God  pro- 
vided for  it.  I  used  to  say  every  day,  "Lord,  Thy  Holy 
Will  be  done  in  me,"  and  I  never  troubled  myself  as  to 
how  this  would  take  place.  For  the  present,  you  need 
only  occupy  yourself  in  fulfilling  your  duties  as  an 
obedient  daughter,  as  sister,  friend,  and  especially  as 
Christian  and  sodalist ;  all  this  with  the  pure  and  single 
intention  of  pleasing  God. 

To  HER  SISTER  CECILE 

How  I  wish  you  were  here,  my  little  girl,  to  give  your 
sick  watch  to  Mother  Mary  to  regulate.  She  under- 
stands perfectly  how  to  repair  this  changeable  watch,  the 
imagination.  She  found  many  broken  springs  in  mine, 
I  assure  you,  for  in  me  as  in  you,  everything  was  a  little 
out  of  fix  in  body  and  soul.  You  tell  me,  dear  child, 
that  you  wish  you  had  a  religious  vocation.  You  know 
that  it  is  indeed  a  greater  grace  than  to  go  to  Rome,  to 
Jerusalem,  to  Vincennes.  Yes,  it  is  a  grace  that  sur- 
passes all  thought,  and  for  which  I  would  willingly 
suffer  again  all  that  I  underwent  last  summer.  You 
may  think,  perhaps,  that  I  am  swimming  in  an  ocean  of 
sensible  consolations.  Oh  1  no  indeed,  dear  Cecile ;  some- 


76  LETTERS  TO  HER  SISTERS 

times  my  heart  is  as  cold  as  the  weather.  Yet  I  am 
happy,  because  I  am  where  God  wills  me  to  be,  and  be- 
cause I  know  that  by  obeying  I  am  pleasing  God,  and 
what  more  is  needed  to  be  happy?  Pray  much  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin  to  watch  over  you,  so  that  if  some  day 
God  calls  you  to  the  religious  life  you  will  bring  Him  a 
pure  and  innocent  heart.  To  keep  one's  innocence  is 
perhaps  a  still  greater  grace  than  to  be  a  religious. 
Lastly  you  must  pray  a  great  deal  to  the  Holy  Spirit 
to  show  you  the  way  in  which  you  should  walk  to  go 
to  Heaven.  You  will  offer  to  God  your  annoyances, 
my  absence,  and  that  dreadful  catechism  that  gives  you 
so  much  trouble.  I  think  the  demon  of  pride  must  have 
leaped  at  your  throat  and  strangled  you  on  Sunday, 
as  he  did  Eve.1  Finally,  is  it  so  great  a  misfortune  if 
you  do  not  speak  very  well?  If  there  were  but  one 
child,  the  smallest,  the  least  prepossessing  whom  you 
could  prevent  from  committing  not  only  mortal  sin  but 
even  a  venial  sin,  would  you  not  have  spent  your  time 
much  better  than  if  you  had  founded  Rome  or  Athens? 
Apply  yourself,  then,  to  God's  work  with  patience, 
courage,  and  love.  Oh!  how  God  loves  you  when  you 
do  not  succeed.  You  work  and  humble  yourself.  He 
asks  no  more.  What  destroyed  the  merit  of  my  work 
at  Saint  Servan  was  the  value  I  attached  to  actions;  in 
truth  there  are  neither  great  nor  small  before  God. 
What  raises  and  lowers  them  is  the  affection  of  the  heart. 
Let  us  love  much  and  all  will  be  great.  I  do  not  wish 
to  lose  one  moment  of  my  occupation.  I  offer  all  to 
God,  even  the  way  I  make  my  bed.  Do  the  same,  dear 
Cecile ;  thus  one  acts  tranquilly,  every  thing  is  the  same, 
one  is  no  longer  disquieted.  I  am  glad  that  you  are 
reading  Saint  Francis  de  Sales.  I  am  reading  him  too, 
and  Louis  of  Granada  also,  who  is  very  good,  I  assure 
you.  Love  always  the  sister  who  loves  you  so  much. 

i  Response  of  one  of  the  children  of  the  catechism  class  to  the  question, 
"What  happened  to  Eve  after  having  listened  to  the  serpent?"  "He  gave 
her  an  apple  to  eat  and  it  strangled  her." 


CONCERNING  A  VOCATION  77 

To  A  FRIEND  UNDECIDED  REGARDING  HER  VOCATION 

Ruille,  February  18, 1840. 

.  .  .  My  dear  friend,  leave  this  state.  Consider  what 
the  Magi  did;  when  their  star  disappeared  they  inquired 
of  the  Synagogue.  You  have  also  lost  your  star,  or 
rather  perhaps  you  have  not  found  it.  Go  then,  to  the 
Church.  "Show  yourself  to  the  priests."  There  are 
some  very  learned  ones  at  Rennes.  Had  I  been  guided 
by  my  own  light  I  should  not  be  here.  I  thought  I  had 
not  even  the  shadow  of  a  vocation  to  the  religious  life. 
My  tastes,  my  love  of  liberty,  all  seemed  an  obstacle 
which  I  did  not  care  to  surmount.  Yet,  like  you,  I 
wished  to  belong  to  God,  though  I  was  not,  like  you,  un- 
decided about  my  future.  I  did  not  think  a  higher 
destiny  awaited  me  than  to  remain  in  the  world  and  do 
good  there.  I  was  satisfied ;  but  God  wished  me  to  be- 
long entirely  to  Him.  One  day  He  raised  doubts  in 
my  soul,  the  next  day  I  made  them  known.  You  know 
the  rest.  I  should  like  you  to  partake  of  my  happiness ; 
it  all  consists  in  obedience.  I  have  an  excellent  su- 
perior. I  tell  her  simply  all  that  goes  on  in  my  soul. 
At  first  these  avowals  cost  me  much,  but  now  I  could  not 
sleep  quietly  if  there  were  anything  on  my  heart  which  I 
had  not  the  courage  to  tell.  O  my  dear  Marie,  if  you 
were  here  she  would  unlock  your  strong  box,  not  as  a 
thief  to  steal  your  treasure,  but  as  a  wise  administrator 
to  utilize  the  riches  that  you  bury  in  the  depths  of  your 
soul — riches  of  which  God  will  demand  an  account,  and 
for  which,  if  you  continue,  you  will  have  but  this  answer 
to  give :  "Lord,  I  have  heard  that  you  are  severe.  I  was 
afraid,  and  for  this  reason  I  buried  my  treasure,  lest  I 
should  lose  it." 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Ruille,  February  29, 1840. 

You  do  well,  my  beloved  mother,  to  claim  your  rights ; 
you  have  some  on  my  pen,  as  well  as  on  my  heart.  You 
will  never  lose  the  latter,  however  great  may  be  the 


78  LETTERS  HOME 

crowd ;  but  as  to  writing,  I  do  like  Gauthier,1  I  serve  the 
worst  first.  Many  thanks  for  all  the  interesting  details. 
You  give  me  so  faithful  an  account  of  everything  that 
I  seem  to  be  still  at  home.  These  little  journeys  of  my 
imagination  and  heart  do  not  injure  me.  My  superior, 
who.  under  stands  my  nature,  often  gives  me  permission 
to  see  you  in  spirit,  and  even  to  embrace  you  tenderly. 
She  also  loved  her  family.  Ah !  if  you  knew  what  a  dif- 
ference between  the  reality  of  her  heart  and  the  terrible 
person  of  whom  I  dreamed.  What  a  strong  woman  she 
is  in  character,  and  how  tender  in  soul!  She  finds  you 
"terribly"  Christian  to  have  consented  to  my  departure; 
she  often  speaks  to  me  of  you.  She  knows  no  other  in- 
terests than  those  of  God ;  earthly  things  are  nothing  to 
her.  With  admirable  generosity  she  gets  me  all  I  need. 
You  see,  my  cherished  mother,  God  does  not  abandon 

us. 

•  ••••••• 

I  think  Sister  Superior  will  go  to  Brittany  in  May; 
you  will  be  very  much  pleased  to  see  her.  She  often  in- 
quires whether  I  write  to  you,  for  she  says,  "The  poor 
mothers  are  always  so  uneasy;  they  are  never  satisfied." 
I  like  to  think  you  will  receive  some  grace  for  the  sacri- 
fice we  have  made  together,  because  you  have  perhaps 
contributed  more  to  it  than  I  have.  The  other  day  when 
reading  this  verse  of  Saint  John,  God  so  loved  the  world 
that  He  gave  His  only  Son,  I  said  to  myself:  Oh!  yes, 
it  has  cost  the  Father  more  to  give  us  His  only  Son  than 
it  cost  Jesus  to  die  for  us;  for  if  it  were  not  thus  Saint 
John  would  have  said,  Jesus  Christ  has  so  loved  the 
world  that  he  died  to  save  it.  Then  I  recalled  Marie's  2 
childish  remark,  "Dear  Irma,  our  good  God  can  refuse 
you  nothing,  since  you  gave  Him  all."  Why,  then,  I 
said,  if  He  can  refuse  me  nothing  when  I  offer  myself  to 
Him,  though  I  am  full  of  defects,  will  He  not  grant  all 
to  His  Son  when  He  prays  for  us — He  who  is  innocent 
and  who  sacrificed  Himself  with  such  generosity  and 

1  A  tradesman  patronized  by  the  family. 

2  Her  cousin,  Marie  de  la  Salle. 


COUNSELS  AND  REFLECTIONS       79 

love?  My  dearest  mother,  reflect  a  little  on  this  com- 
forting thought ;  it  has  filled  me  with  courage,  and  I  be- 
lieve it  will  give  you  much  consolation. 

To  HER  SISTER  ELVIRE 

February,  1840. 

You  say,  my  dear  little  Elvire,  that  it  is  impossible 
for  you  to  be  good,  since  you  would  be  so  only  to  be 
praised.  That  would,  it  is  true,  be  a  very  poor  motive ; 
but  if  you  cannot  have  a  better  one,  begin  anyhow  to  cor- 
rect yourself,  and  then  you  will  sanctify  your  motives. 
You  are  now  at  an  age  when  the  passions  will  rush  upon 
you  with  terrible  impetuosity.  You  are  almost  fifteen 
years  old.  O  my  dear  child,  what  will  become  of  you? 
Thro wk yourself  into  Mary's  arms. 

The  love  of  reading,  of  amusing  conversation,  per- 
haps, too,  the  love  of  pleasure,  the  germ  of  which  is  in 
you,  will  soon  develop ;  then  that  miserable  vanity  which 
you  have,  although  it  has  not  yet  shown  itself  much. 
Every  one  has  it.  They  used  to  think  I  had  none  of  it; 
but  even  at  your  age  I  felt  the  desire  of  pleasing,  and 
once  I  remember  (I  was  fourteen  years  old  and  it  was 
springtime),  I  made  myself  a  garland  of  flowers.  My 
hair  was  curled,  and  with  my  wreath  I  thought  I  was 
charming;  and  I  am  sure  others,  too,  found  me  pretty. 
Whenever  I  passed  before  a  mirror  in  the  salon,  I 
stopped  to  admire  myself;  but  on  going  upstairs  to  my 
room,  and  seeing  my  crucifix  with  my  Jesus  crowned 
with  thorns,  I  threw  myself  before  it,  cast  aside  my  gar- 
land, and  wept.  I  told  Our  Lord  that  I  wished  to  be 
beautiful  only  in  His  eyes.  Oh !  I  was  so  happy  after- 
wards. 

Elvire,  you  will  experience  the  same  happiness  if  the 
approving  looks  of  Jesus  and  Mary  suffice  for  you. 
You  are  their  cherished  daughter,  and  the  angels  in 
speaking  of  you  call  you  "sister."  Take  care  of  your 
heart  and  your  innocence;  work,  study,  and  tell  me 
everything  that  happens  to  you. 


80  "A  CHAIN  OF  WATCHFUL  CHARITY" 

To  HER  FATHER 

Ruille,  March  3,  1840. 

Although  we  are  busily  engaged  in  occupations  of  all 
kinds,  my  dear  father,  I  wish  to  say  a  little  word  of 
tenderness  to  you ;  I  shall  help  the  others  later.  Already 
I  have  filled  a  page  in  my  copybook,  and  it  looks  very 
well.  It  makes  me  laugh  to  see  myself  a  pupil  again; 
and  I  say  to  myself,  it  is  indeed  very  true  that  to  gain 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  we  must  become  as  little  children. 
Besides,  I  had  a  strong  inclination,  as  you  know,  to 
remain  a  little  girl,  to  be  petted.  I  must  be  very  weak 
yet,  seeing  all  the  care,  all  the  tenderness,  our  good  God 
lavishes  on  me.  He  has  given  to  every  one  here  a  ten- 
dency to  love  me  and  do  me  good.  From  the  superior, 
who  strengthens  my  soul,  to  old  Madeleine,  who  attends 
to  the  cows  and  to  my  feet,  there  is  a  chain  of  watchful 
charity  for  your  Irma.  To  be  your  daughter  brings  me 
good  fortune,  as  Abbe  Coedro  so  well  said. 

You  must  have  received  a  letter  from  Father  Besnoin. 
He  intends  preaching  the  Forty  Hours  at  Saint  Servan, 
having  received  an  invitation  from  the  rector  of  that 
town  through  the  most  amiable,  the  most  charming  let- 
ter he  ever  saw  in  his  life.  "It  was  tender,"  he  said  to 
me.  I  made  him  promise  to  keep  it  carefully.  .  .  . 

I  have  sketched  Ruille  for  you.  You  will  be  glad  to 
see  the  house  occupied  by  my  body,  for  my  heart  yet 
resides,  by  right  and  by  deed,  at  Saint  Servan.  I  sup- 
pose you  are  as  thin  as  ever,  and  perhaps  you  will  be 
obliged  to  do  like  our  chaplain.  The  other  day  he  had 
a  swollen  face;  not  being  able  to  get  fat,  he  thought  a 
swelling  would  do  as  well.  I  find  a  great  similarity 
between  his  preaching  and  Abbe  Cardonnet's  talks  to  his 
sodalists.  He  gives  us  catechism  once  a  week.  Last 
Sunday  I  was  terribly  ashamed.  Whenever  the  postu- 
lants could  not  answer  he  would  call  "Sister  Irma." 
Being  carried  away  by  the  love  of  truth,  I  made  some 
objections  to  what  he  had  explained;  but  it  seemed  they 
produced  only  amusement,  for  a  burst  of  general  laugh- 
ter followed.  He  himself  could  not  say  another  word, 


FEAST  OF  ST.  JOSEPH  81 

and  our  Mother  said  if  I  continued  she  would  be  obliged 
to  leave  the  room.  Imagine  how  comfortable  I  was! 
He  told  me  that  the  Church  had  spoken,  and  of  course 
I  submitted.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  it  is  said, 
"Our  Lord  grew  in  grace  and  wisdom,  really  as  man, 
before  God  and  man."  Please  ask  Abbe  Cardonnet 
whether  I  have  been  dreaming. 

To  HER  GRANDMOTHER 

Ruille,  March  19,  1840. 
My  beloved  Grandmother: 

The  Feast  of  Saint  Joseph,  we  joyfully  say, 
Is  in  truth  the  most  beautiful  festival  day. 

Although  it  is  a  long  while  since  Cousin  Henri  sang 
you  these  lines,  and  neither  of  us  is  there  to  embrace  you, 
this  will  not  prevent  my  adding,  as  of  old, 

It  is,  I  believe,  a  feast  for  all; 
To  celebrate  it,  all  prepare. 

Yes,  at  Ruille  as  at  Lorette,  on  earth  as  well  as  in 
heaven,  everywhere  this  is  a  beautiful  day.  Here  it  is 
celebrated  with  great  solemnity,  for  good  Saint  Joseph 
is  the  patron  of  the  community.  We  are  making  a 
novena  to  him,  and  I  have  just  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life,  been  copying  music  for  a  beautiful  Mass  to  be  sung 
in  his  honor.  No  doubt  it  is  owing  to  his  help  that  I  had 
but  one  crooked  note.  I  wish  that  you,  who  are  one  of 
Saint  Joseph's  friends  and  so  intimate  with  him,  would 
settle  a  dispute  between  Sister  Eudoxie  and  myself 
about  your  patron.  She  maintains  that  Saint  Joseph 
was  a  good,  simple  man,  common-looking,  and  not  gen- 
tlemanly in  appearance;  I,  on  the  contrary,  declare  that, 
in  spite  of  his  plain  clothing,  the  royal  blood  of  David 
could  be  recognized  in  him,  and  that  his  appearance  was 
impressed  with  majestic  goodness.  I  am  sorry  to  differ 
thus  from  Sister  Eudoxie,  for  I  love  her  much,  and  on 
all  other  points  we  agree.  A  word  from  you,  dear 
grandmamma,  will  make  me  adopt  her  opinion  or  give 
me  courage  to  sustain  mine. 


82  "THE  PROTECTING  TREE" 

To-day  I  seem  to  be  again  at  that  dear  Lorette  where, 
doubtless,  you  are  all  gathered  together.  I,  too,  am 
there,  and  I  wish  you  a  happy  feast.  I  embrace  you; 
I  wish  you  to  be  very  obedient  in  regard  to  your  health 
and  not  remain  too  long  in  your  chapel.  I  ask  Abbe 
Cardonnet  whether  you  take  your  broth,  and  also  your 
cream  in  the  evening,  regularly  and  without  grumbling. 
And  then  I  would  like  to  know  whether  you  are  pleased 
with  all  your  children  and  grandchildren.  Are  the  two 
old  ones,1  as  you  begin  to  call  them,  sensible  for  their 
age?  Do  they  not  wish  to  keep  too  strict  a  Lent,  to 
fast  as  if  they  were  strong,  to  go  out  in  spite  of  wind 
and  rain?  The  first  time  your  daughter  Jeanne  goes 
to  sleep,  her  head  supported  on  her  thumb,  I  beg  you  to 
waken  her  with  a  good  pinch  of  snuff;  you  are  obliged 
to  do  it,  dear  grandmamma,  because  children  must  be 
corrected.  I  dare  not  set  any  penance  for  Aunt  Marie, 
because  she  is  my  godmother ;  still,  it  would  not  be  amiss 
to  impose  on  her  the  recitation  of  some  Paters  and  Aves 
for  her  godchild.  You  must  put  us  in  a  state  to  be 
sincere  when  we  sing: 

We  branchlets  of  these  blessed  vines 

Shall  by  our  actions  tell, 
From  age  to  age,  the  virtues  fair 

You  practiced  here  so  well. 

After  this  stanza  I  embrace  you,  dear  grandmamma, 
and  return  to  Ruille,  begging  our  Lord  to  bless  you  and 
leave  you  yet  a  long  time  with  us,  to  be  the  happiness 
of  all  your  children  and  grandchildren,  present  and 
future;  for  you  are  the  "protecting  tree."  Love,  then, 
and  protect  by  your  prayers  the  poor  branch  so  far  away 
from  you,  your  granddaughter,  Irma. 

To  HER  AUNT  MADEMOISELLE  LE  FER  DE  LA 
MOTTE,  AT  LORETTE 

Ruille,  March  22,  1840. 

It  is  a  long,  a  very  long  time,  my  dear  aunt,  since  I 
have  written  to  you,  but  you  are  one  of  the  elders  of  the 

i  Her  two  eldest  daughters,  Jeanne  and  Marie. 


"NO  AGE  FOR  THE  HEART"  83 

family,  and  therefore  one  of  the  most  reasonable.  It  is 
true  there  is  no  age  for  the  heart.  The  superior  and  I 
repeat  this  very  often.  Unfortunately  I  feel  it  every 
day ;  and  you,  more  than  any  one  else,  feel  it  at  your  own 
expense,  so  I  cannot  expect  more  of  you  than  of  any 
other  member  of  the  family.  All  I  can  say  to  console 
those  to  whom  I  write  so  seldom  is,  that  my  most  fre- 
quent and  fervent  prayers  are  for  them.  I  say  to  God, 
like  Job,  but  in  another  sense,  "Lord,  answer  for  me." 

The  Feast  of  Saint  Joseph  was  celebrated  here  with 
great  pomp.  The  Blessed  Sacrament  was  exposed  in 
the  morning,  and  Benediction  was  given  in  the  evening 
as  on  grand  festivals;  for  Saint  Joseph  is  one  of  our 
patrons. 

I  suppose  your  chapel  at  Nazareth  is  entirely  finished, 
and  the  workmen  no  longer  interrupt  the  prayers  of 
pious  souls.  How  do  you  conduct  your  little  bark? 
You  are  now  on  the  good  way,  on  the  sure  road  of  the 
humble.  Well,  my  dear  aunt,  rejoice  to  be  useless  in 
your  own  eyes.  I  would  give  all  the  gold  in  the  world 
to  consider  myself  in  that  way;  but,  unfortunately,  I 
have  abominable  pride.  I  entreat  you  to  beg  God  to 
drive  this  pride  away,  for  I  have  a  great  horror  of  it, 
since  it  is  the  worst  deceiver  in  the  world.  Our  life  is 
not  like  gold,  which  gets  its  value  where  it  is  employed, 
being  worth  twenty-five  times  more  in  France  than  in 
Peru.  In  the  sight  of  God  places  and  employments  are 
nothing.  All,  emphatically  all,  consists  in  purity  of  in- 
tention. I  begin  now  to  understand  it  a  little,  though 
formerly  this  was  not  a  favorite  subject  of  my  wander- 
ing meditations. 

Give  me  all  the  news  of  your  heart,  that  heart  which 
causes  all  your  misery.  It  seems  to  me  you  should  be 
better  now,  for  I  believe  that  at  my  departure  you  laid 
your  surplus  of  sensitiveness  on  me.  However  that 
may  be,  I  must  acknowledge  that  I  never  had  more  than 
now,  and  it  is  the  only  thing  that  makes  me  regret  being 
your  godchild.  After  all,  it  is  a  gift  of  God  that  must 
not  be  despised  nor  ill-treated,  and  it  will  contribute 
much  to  embellish  our  crowns. 


84  FOR  GOD  ALONE 

To  HER  SISTER  CECILE 

March  23,  1840. 

I  seem  to  see  you,  my  dear  Cecile,  disputing  with 
Father  Besnoin.  He  was  right  to  enlighten  you  by  say- 
ing that  a  novice  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  pane 
of  glass  in  a  community.  Nothing  is  more  easily  re- 
placed. Since  the  retreat,  fourteen  who  believed  them- 
selves called  have  not  been  chosen.  I  assure  you  no  one 
is  proud  here.  I,  for  one,  am  not;  each  instant  we 
tremble,  fearing  to  get  our  "walking-papers."  Once, 
in  particular  my  dread  was  so  great  that  when  the 
superior  called  me  to  her  room  my  knees  shook  and  I 
could  scarcely  utter  a  sound.  To  be  quickly  relieved 
from  this  anxiety  I  confessed  how  frightened  I  was.  .  .  . 
I  had  already  prepared  in  my  mind  the  strongest  rea- 
sons to  induce  them  to  keep  me:  If  I  am  not  capable 
of  teaching  a  class,  if  I  am  not  strong  enough  to  take 
care  of  the  sick,  well,  I  am  willing  to  scrape  the  carrots 
and  peel  the  potatoes.  I  would  have  said  all  this,  Cecile, 
and  all  this  on  my  knees,  weeping,  so  that  my  superior 
would  not  have  had  the  heart  to  send  me  away.  Per- 
haps you  do  not  understand  this.  But  ask  David;  he 
said,  like  me,  with  a  good  heart,  "My  God,  I  would 
rather  be  the  least  in  Thy  house  than  the  greatest  any- 
where else."  O  my  dear  sister!  to  belong  to  God,  to 
God  alone,  this  is  so  great  a  happiness  that  the  anticipa- 
tion alone  makes  my  soul  palpitate  with  joy. 

I  am  telling  Elvire  of  my  musical  triumphs.  It 
seems  that  our  drawing-master's  axiom,  "Who  will,  can," 
does  not  apply  to  music.  In  vain  did  I  raise  my  head 
to  take  high  mi,  and  lower  my  chin  to  get  the  bass  notes ; 
my  efforts  were  greeted  by  general  bursts  of  laughter. 
Ah!  if  Elvire  had  been  more  patient,  I  might  perhaps 
one  day  have  attained  success.  But  now  it  is  all  over. 
I  have  given  up  hope. 


CHAPTER  IX 

IRMA   MUST  REMAIN   IN   FRANCE 

AS  may  be  gleaned  from  the  preceding  letters, 
Irma  was  not  long  at  Ruille  before  she  appre- 
ciated the  advantage  of  the  religious  life.  She 
intended,  however,  merely  to  begin  her  novitiate  in 
France,  for  she  hoped  to  finish  it  in  America  under 
Mother  Theodore,  who  was  to  leave  for  Indiana  in  June, 
1840.  After  Irma  had  spent  some  months  in  the  com- 
munity, Mother  Mary  found  her  health  so  delicate  that 
she  did  not  consider  her  able  to  bear  the  hardships  to  be 
endured  by  pioneers  in  the  American  forests;  fearing 
it  would  even  endanger  Irma's  life,  the  good  superior 
told  her  she  must  not  think  of  leaving  with  the  first 
band.  "Send  me,  Mother,"  Irma  entreated;  "if  I  die, 
what  is  the  difference?  I  shall  be  a  martyr."  "And," 
rejoined  the  superior,  "what  shall  I  be?  The  execu- 
tioner. I  should  not  like  to  deserve  that  title." 

Nevertheless,  Mother  Mary,  seeing  in  her  postulant 
all  the  marks  of  a  solid  vocation,  said  to  her:  "Even 
should  your  health  not  permit  you  to  fulfill  any  duty, 
any  employment,  and  you  are  obliged  to  remain  always 
in  bed,  that  will  not  exclude  you  from  religious  pro- 
fession." And  this  good  Mother  who,  as  Irma  said, 
knew  no  other  interest  than  the  glory  of  God,  refused 
to  accept  any  dowry. 

The  letters  which  announced  to  Madame  le  Fer  that 
Irma  could  not  be  of  the  number  of  those  who  were  to 

85 


86  DISAPPOINTMENTS 

leave  for  America,  caused  the  deepest  anxiety  to  her 
mother-heart.  She  would  be  happy  to  keep  her  daugh- 
ter in  France,  if  such  were  the  will  of  God ;  but  all  whom 
she  had  consulted  agreed  that  God  called  Irma  to 
America ;  and,  besides,  Irma  had  gone  to  Ruille  for  that 
purpose  only. 

Although  the  Sisters  of  Providence  had  for  several 
years  taken  care  of  the  sick  at  Saint  Servan,  Irma  had 
had  very  little  personal  intercourse  with  them.  Had 
she  desired  to  become  a  religious  in  France,  she  would 
not  have  thought  of  Ruille-sur-Loir,  even  the  name  of 
which  she  had  probably  never  heard  until  Bishop  Hai- 
landiere's  change  of  plan  made  her  acquainted  with  the 
community.  Now,  since  the  only  design  which  had  con- 
ducted her  to  this  community  could  not  be  executed,  was 
it  not  her  parents'  duty  to  call  her  home,  where,  far 
from  all  influence,  she  might  leisurely  examine  a  voca- 
tion so  different  from  her  first  project?  Should  they 
allow  her,  in  a  moment  of  imprudent  fervor,  to  contract 
engagements  which  later  might  become  an  insupportable 
yoke  for  her?  If  she  must  remain  in  France,  perhaps 
she  could  find  another  Order  more  in  accordance  with 
her  habits  and  tastes. 

These  objections  and  many  others  presented  them- 
selves to  the  minds  of  Irma's  parents,  and  found  but  too 
strong  an  echo  in  their  hearts.  That  their  daughter 
would  remain  in  France  was  a  consoling  thought,  but, 
being  accompanied  by  anxiety  and  doubt,  it  caused  them 
no  real  satisfaction  till  Irma  wrote  the  following  letter, 
in  which  she  disclosed  the  motives  that  determined  her 
to  remain  in  the  community  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence 
of  Ruille-sur-Loir: 


ANXIETIES  OF  HER  FAMILY  87 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Ruille,  May,  1840. 

In  your  letter  you  proposed  that  I  return  home  to 
examine  my  vocation.  Do  not  doubt  the  pleasure  I 
should  have  in  seeing  you  all,  in  listening  to  your  coun- 
sels, and  in  uniting  my  prayers  to  yours  to  ask  God  to 
direct  me.  But  here  in  solitude  I  think  I  can  better 
speak  to  Him  and  consult  Him,  since  I  live  with  Him. 
Oh !  do  not  fear.  He  loves  me  tenderly.  He  will  per- 
mit no  evil  to  befall  me.  And  then,  when  I  place 
flowers  on  Mary's  altar,  I  repose  sweetly  at  her  feet,  I 
consult  her,  I  listen  to  her,  I  love  her  still  more  than 
my  superior.  Consequently,  my  dear  mother,  she  is  the 
only  one  of  whom  you  can  be  jealous,  yes,  of  Mary,  and 
of  no  one  else. 

You  ask  whether  I  desire  to  enter  another  Order.  I 
answer,  No.  Last  summer  being  unable  to  choose  for 
myself,  I  begged  God  to  select  for  me  a  religious  Order 
in  which  I  might  save  my  soul  and  love  Him  more.  He 
did  not  will  it  to  be  in  the  community  of  Alsace.  Now 
that  He  has  brought  me  here  almost  in  spite  of  myself, 
after  I  had  consulted  Abbe  Coedro  on  this  final  step,  I 
feel  that  it  is  here  He  wants  me.  True,  there  are  older 
communities,  and  many  which  are  better  known,  but  this 
is  the  one  God  has  selected  for  me.  It  is  His  Provi- 
dence they  adore  here.  "Providence  of  God,  repose  of 
the  heart!  Providence  of  God,  the  way  of  heaven! 
Providence  of  God,  calm  in  the  tempests  1"  Every  day 
we  say  this,  and  I  repeat  with  all  my  heart,  Providence 
of  God,  for  me  the  way  of  heaven,  I  abandon  myself  to 
Thee;  I  rest  in  Thy  arms. 

Shall  I  ever  go  to  America?  Shall  I  remain  in 
France?  I  know  not.  God  knows;  that  suffices. 
Since  He  is  my  guide,  it  is  not  necessary  that  I  should 
know  the  road.  From  the  moment  He  takes  on  Him- 
self the  charge  of  me  I  have  no  need  to  know  what  path 
will  lead  me  to  heaven.  This  state  of  abandonment  is 
conformable  to  my  confiding  character.  When  I  was 
at  home  I  never  felt  uneasy  or  anxious  about  myself,  for 


88  THE  CHOSEN  ORDER 

I  was  with  good  parents;  and  now  it  would  be  very 
strange  if  I  had  any  disquietude  about  my  future,  being 
the  beloved  child  of  a  rich  and  generous  Father.  O  my 
dear  mother !  do  not  trouble  yourself  about  me ;  my  por- 
tion is  excellent. 

It  is  true  that  sometimes  my  nature  resists  when  I 
think  of  Vincennes  and  of  you,  but  my  heart  enjoys  a 
profound  peace.  There  is  in  the  depths  of  my  being 
something  that  I  never  felt  before,  and  it  is  this  some- 
thing which  I  beg  God  to  give  you  and  my  dear  father, 
for  it  is  worth  all  the  wealth  of  the  world.  This  does 
not  prevent  my  praying  that  the  baths  may  restore  his 
health.  My  beloved  father !  I  would  wish  him  to  enjoy 
every  blessing;  that  would  not  be  too  much  to  satisfy 
my  love. 

It  was  about  the  end  of  February  that  I  learned  the 
decision  of  the  Mother  General  relative  to  my  departure. 

The  hearts  of  mothers  and  those  of  their  children  are 
often  brought  into  contact  without  any  magnetism,  and 
thus  you  can  read  in  mine  that  it  needs  your  prayers. 
Pray,  then,  my  dear  parents,  until  I  write  you  again. 
Thanks ;  it  is  enough. 

She  wrote  to  her  sisters  also,  who,  forgetting  them- 
selves in  their  tenderness,  saw  only  what  was  painful  for 
her  in  this  decision  of  the  superior,  whom  they  accused 
of  being  arbitrary. 

To  PEPA  AND  CECILE 

Ruille,  1840. 

Truly,  my  dear  sisters,  you  have  excellent  hearts  and 
many  good  qualities ;  but  there  was  not  a  grain  of  polite- 
ness in  your  last  letters.  You  say  it  was  because  I  was 
grieved  that  you  acted  thus.  Well,  let  me  tell  you,  my 
most  lively  sorrow  was  caused  by  seeing  that  you  repay 
the  immense  goodness  they  show  me  here  by  reproach 
and  sharp  complaint.  My  heart  was  torn  and  my  tears 
were  more  bitter  than  those  I  shed  on  learning  that  I 


THE  MANIFEST  WILL  OF  GOD  89 

could  not  go  to  America  this  year.  I  saw  in  this  de- 
cision the  manifest  will  of  God.  I  did  not  for  an  instant 
think  of  a  human  will.  I  did  not  hesitate  one  moment, 
for  God  said  to  me  interiorly  that  He  wished  me  to 
wait.  But  to-day  it  is  in  vain  I  say  to  myself,  It  is  God 
again  who  permits  this  affliction.  I  still  see  it  comes  to 
me  from  my  sisters,  and  directs  itself  toward  the  dis- 
interested heart  of  my  mother.  Oh !  was  it  this  I  should 
have  expected  from  you?  Do  you  think  every  letter  I 
write  you  is  untruthful,  and  that  the  tender  affection 
shown  me  is  real  on  paper  only?  Did  not  Father 
Besnoin  repeat  the  same  thing  to  you?  Do  you  not  be- 
lieve in  the  power  and  goodness  of  God  to  change  my 
will?  Do  you  not  think  His  love  will  suffice  for  Irma, 
since  He  alone  will  be  the  eternal  felicity  of  her  being? 
Si  scires  donum  Dei — if  you  knew  the  gift  of  God,  if 
you  knew  what  peace,  what  calm,  what  ardor  He  dif- 
fuses into  the  soul!  Si  scires  donum  Dei!  But  how 
can  you  understand  a  religious  vocation  when  I,  in  the 
midst  of  my  former  transports,  could  not  for  an  instant 
imagine  it?  Adore,  then,  in  silence,  my  poor  sisters.  I 
am  an  incomprehensible  mystery  to  myself,  and  I  can 
only  repeat  in  an  excess  of  gratitude,  "The  Lord  has 
done  great  things  to  me,"  because  He  is  all-powerful. 
We  must  not  confine  God's  views  to  our  views.  He 
changes  His  works  and  does  not  change  His  designs. 
What  matters  the  place?  The  glory  of  a  creature  is  not 
attached  to  one  place  more  than  another  on  this  earth, 
which  in  His  sight  is  not  larger  than  a  grain  of  sand ;  but 
what  is  of  importance  is  to  accomplish  well  the  will  of 
God  our  Creator  and  to  draw  on  ourselves  His  love. 

Perhaps  I,  too,  am  allowing  myself  to  be  carried  away 
by  the  impulse  of  the  moment.  Pardon  me,  dear  sis- 
ters, if  I  have  pained  you,  but  I  must  tell  you  that  I  have 
been  wounded  to  the  quick.  Pardon  me.  Promise  me 
that  you  will  say  a  Te  Deum  in  thanksgiving  for  my 
remaining  in  France.  From  the  first  moment  I  arrived 
here  I  foresaw  that  God  would  demand  this  of  me,  and 
more  than  two  months  ago  the  superior  positively  de- 


90  REPROACHES  TO  HER  SISTERS 

clared  it  to  me.  I  am  very  calm  now ;  I  do  not  weep  any 
more.  I  hope  to  go  to  see  you  some  day  soon  at  Saint 
Servan,  and  then  we  shall  again  have  a  good  laugh  to- 
gether. 

My  fondest  love  to  every  one.  I  think  of  you  all 
every  day.  I  love  you  with  all  my  soul;  and  if  anything 
could  trouble  my  happiness  it  is  your  obstinacy  in  not 
believing  your  happy  sister,  Irma. 

Charles  is  good;  he  has  written,  my  superior  tells  me, 
a  very  fine  letter  of  thanks  to  her.  He  is  entirely 
pleased  with  the  Sisters,  and  his  feelings  of  resentment 
against  them  are  gone  forever.  This  gives  me  great 
pleasure. 

To  HER  SISTER  PEPA 

Ruille,  April,  1840. 

We  should  always  serve  the  Lord  with  joy,  and  your 
cheerfulness  is  a  very  holy  contagion;  besides,  a  joyous 
soul  is  less  subject  to  scruples,  and  judges  its  neighbors 
more  favorably,  and  extricates  itself  from  a  thousand 
miseries.  Continue,  my  dear  sister,  even  if  papa  teases 
you  for  it. 

Marie  Angelina  often  asks  me  to  talk  about  you,  espe- 
cially since  our  superior  said  that  you  resembled  her. 
The  postulants  thought  you  were  called  Pepin;  yester- 
day only  I  rectified  that  mistake.  I  love  all  my  Sisters 
very  much;  they  are  so  good,  so  obliging.  But  I  am 
sorry  that  nineteen  of  the  oldest  will  leave  us  in  a  few 
days.  They  are  delighted  when  I  tell  them  some  of 
your  anecdotes,  among  others  the  "Peck  of  Oats,"  given 
by  Father  Besnoin.  I  believe  it  took  away  their  desire 
of  having  a  similar  treat.  Well,  my  dear  little  sister, 
be  good  for  the  sake  of  papa  and  the  rest,  but  above  all 
to  please  our  dear  Lord,  for  the  interior  must  resemble 
the  exterior.  Oh!  how  good  it  is  to  love  Him!  How 
beautiful  He  is !  He  will  not  die,  nor  will  He  leave  us, 
unless  we  drive  Him  away;  and  even  then  He  returns 
and  knocks  at  the  door  of  our  hearts.  Give  yourself 
up,  therefore,  with  simplicity  and  confidence,  to  our 
Savior ;  be  His  dear  child.  He  has  given  you  so  many 


THE  "PECK  OF  OATS"  91 

graces.  He  wishes  you  to  belong  entirely  to  Him  in 
simplicity  and  love.  We  are  both  in  His  Sacred  Heart ; 
there  embrace  your  Irma.  Thanks  for  your  charming 
needle-case;  it  was  high  time  it  came,  for  according  to 
my  old  practice  I  was  beginning  again  to  steal.  Your 
present  caused  general  joy. 

The  "Peck  of  Oats,"  of  which  Irma  speaks  pleasantly 
in  several  letters,  requires  an  explanation. 

While  Father  Besnoin  was  giving  the  Lenten  Station 
at  Saint  Servan,  Mademoiselle  Pepa  le  Fer,  who  en- 
joyed his  instructions  very  much,  desired  to  have  him  for 
her  director.  In  spite  of  her  natural  cheerfulness  and 
great  gayety  she  was  often  troubled  with  scruples,  and 
she  hoped  this  Father  would  give  her  spiritual  consola- 
tion. She  was  advancing  too  slowly  in  the  service  of 
God,  she  said,  and  in  order  to  progress  more  rapidly  she 
wished  to  give  her  soul  a  "peck  of  oats"  (a  spiritual 
feast). 

As  Father  Besnoin  had  many  penitents,  it  was  not 
until  after  two  or  three  unsuccessful  attempts  to  speak 
to  him  that  Mademoiselle  Pepa  found  a  favorable  mo- 
ment to  present  herself.  Father  Besnoin  was  excellent 
in  bringing  back  sinners  to  God ;  the  most  culpable  were 
best  adapted  to  his  zeal,  and  the  deeper  the  soul  was 
steeped  in  guilt,  the  more  zealous  did  the  good  priest 
show  himself.  To  decide  as  to  a  vocation,  to  reconcile 
enemies,  to  help  a  soul  out  of  a  difficult  position — all  this 
suited  him ;  but  he  looked  upon  it  as  a  loss  of  time,  par- 
ticularly at  the  end  of  Lent,  to  assume  the  direction  of 
a  person  who  was  leading  not  merely  a  Christian  but 
even  a  really  pious  life.  He  therefore  rather  gruffly 
received  Mademoiselle  le  Fer. 

"What!  you  here  again?"  he  said  to  her. 

"But,  Father,  this  is  my  first  time  here." 


92  THE  "PECK  OF  OATS" 

"Yes,  yes;  but  I  saw  you.  You  have  been  prowling 
in  the  church  around  my  confessional.  You  come  to 
steal  the  time  that  belongs  to  my  poor  sinners.  It  is 
wrong.  It  is  very  wrong." 

"But,  Father—" 

"Oh!  yes,  you  are  going  to  excuse  yourself.  You  are 
proud,  full  of  self-love.  You  do  not  wish  to  be  thought 
in  the  wrong." 

Mademoiselle  le  Fer,  much  confused,  began  to  cry. 
"Oh!  that  is  good,"  said  the  Father.  "Now  for  the 
tears,  the  nerves!  Are  you  not  nervous?" 

"Yes,  Father." 

"And  of  course  you  fast?" 

"Yes,  Father,  as  it  is  Lent." 

"I  forbid  you  to  fast.  Go  tell  your  mamma  that  she 
must  give  you  a  cup  of  chocolate."  And  with  this  the 
Father  closed  the  grating. 

Mademoiselle  Pepa  returned  home  with  a  heavy 
heart ;  but  later  she  laughingly  related  the  spiritual  treat 
this  good  Father  had  given  her,  and  the  recital,  height- 
ened by  her  imitation  of  him,  was  the  delight  of  her 
brothers  and  sisters,  who  often  reminded  her  of  the 
"Peck  of  Oats." 

To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

Ruille,  May,  1840. 

I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Elvire  Payan.  She 
has  learned  from  you  that  I  am  to  remain  in  France, 
and  she  scolds  me  a  little  for  being  silent  on  this  subject; 
but  I  intended  to  tell  her  as  soon  as  she  should  arrive. 

I  am  all  alone.  The  others  have  gone  out  for  a  walk ; 
the  distance  being  too  great  for  me,  Sister  Eudoxie  told 
me  to  remain  at  home.  I  assure  you  this  did  not  dis- 
appoint me,  as  I  have  begun  a  good  little  conversation 
with  you.  If  I  were  at  Saint  Servan  we  should  now  be 


A  FEAST  DAY  LETTER  93 

sitting  on  the  wooden  trunk  eating  our  Sunday  apple. 
Poor  little  cherished  mother,  how  often  we  have  chatted 
there  together. 

Oh!  how  happy  we  shall  be  in  Paradise.  There  we 
shall  rest  for  an  everlasting  Sunday.  I  seem  to  be  with 
you  already  at  the  feet  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  for  you 
secured  your  place  there  long  ago.  How  happy  our 
Blessed  Mother  will  be  to  have  her  two  daughters  near 
her!  As  I  am  always  afraid  she  loves  you  better  than 
me,  I  am  going  to  increase  in  fervor,  that  she  may  love 
us  both  equally.  Our  entire  Office  is  in  her  honor.  If 
I  take  advantage  of  all  the  prayers  addressed  to  her 
here,  I  shall  find  many  opportunities  of  praising  her. 

Kiss  dear  Cecile  and  Pepa  very  tenderly  for  me.  I 
am  afraid  I  pained  them  by  my  last  letter,  and  I  am  un- 
easy about  it.  Dearly  loved  sisters,  you  are  all  in  my 
heart.  I  very  often  ask  God  to  reward  you  for  all  you 
have  done  for  me,  for  I  fear  I  did  very  little  for  you. 
But  I  shall  say  no  more;  your  soul  understands  mine. 
I  shall  continue  the  same  silence,  a  silence  which  I  cannot 
break  without  shedding  tears. 

You  have  been,  like  me,  dear  Eugenie,  very  happy 
during  these  beautiful  feasts,  for  we  have  had  permis- 
sion to  communicate  of tener,  and  when  we  possess  Jesus 
we  have  all.  This  loving  Jesus  spoils  me.  He  allows 
me  to  be  always  like  a  child  with  Him,  and  I  intend 
never  to  grow  old,  but  always  to  remain  His  little 
daughter,  Mary's,  and  yours  also,  my  Eugenie — yes, 
always  your  daughter,  Irma. 

To  HER  AUNT  MADEMOISELLE  JEANNE  LE  FER 

DE  LA   MOTTE 

Ruille,  June,  1840. 

I  cannot  better  make  up  for  my  long  silence  than  by 
wishing  you  a  happy  feast ;  for  Saint  John's  day  is  com- 
ing, and  despite  my  poor  memory,  a  family  weakness, 
I  do  not  forget  that  great  Saint  John  is  your  patron. 
I  shall  receive  Holy  Communion  for  you  on  that  day, 
and  shall  ask  God  to  give  you  a  great  love  for  Him  in 


94  MOTHER  MARY  AT  ST.  SERVAN 

the  sacrament  of  the  Eucharist;  for  it  seems  to  me  if 
we  had  this  love  and  a  lively  faith  there  could  be  no  evil 
which  we  would  not  overcome. 

0  my  dear  aunt !  what  a  great  grace  God  has  bestowed 
on  me  in  bringing  me  here.     How  happy  I  am !     I  am 
beginning  to  open  my  eyes  and  to  see  another  world, 
another  future.     It  is  true  that  while  at  Saint  Servan 
I  desired  to  love  and  serve  God ;  but  I  mistook  my  tastes 
and  the  impetuosity  of  my  character  for  virtue.     I 
wished  my  will  to  be  God's  will.     I  fancied  my  poor 
little  talents  would  be  of  great  service  to  the  Lord  in 
aiding  Him  to  do  His  work.     How  absurd !     As  if  He 
had  not  made  the  world  out  of  nothing,  as  if  He  had 
not  converted  it  by  twelve  fishermen !     O  my  dear  aunt ! 
I  am  so  ashamed  of  my  pride.     How  I  regret  having 
spent  so  much  time  in  reading,  talking,  and  discussing, 
and  so  little  in  praying!     It  is  not  my  superiors  that 
have  shown  me  my  error;  it  is  the  Holy  Ghost  alone, 
and  I  tell  you  this  that  you  may  thank  Him. 

1  know  how  highly  the  world  prizes  knowledge  and 
intellect;  but  I  do  not  speak  to  the  world;  I  speak  to 
you,  you  who  know  that  God  dwells  with  the  humble, 
and  that  He  makes  use  of  the  lowly  to  confound  the 
strong.     It  does  me  good  to  speak  openly  to  you  and 
to  tell  you  all  that  passes  in  my  heart.     I  love  to  think 
that  you,  too,  belong  to  Jesus  and  Mary;  that  with  all 
your  soul  you  love  His  divine  providence,  the  attribute 
specially  honored  in  the  Order  I  intend  entering.     It  is 
so  comforting  to  abandon  oneself  to  God,  and  to  sleep 
peacefully  in  His  arms.     On  the  fourth  day  of  each 
month  I  offer  for  your  intentions  all  my  prayers  and 
actions. 

In  1840  Mother  Mary  visited  the  various  houses  of 
the  Sisters  of  Providence  in  Brittany,  and  while  in  Saint 
Servan  she  called  upon  Irma's  father  and  mother. 
Irma  was  not  without  misgivings  regarding  the  inter- 
view. On  the  one  hand,  she  feared  that  the  superior's 


MUTUAL  UNDERSTANDING  95 

motives  for  keeping  her  in  France  were  not  fully  under- 
stood by  her  family,  particularly  by  her  sisters ;  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  she  feared  that  Mother  Mary  might  feel 
a  little  coldness  toward  those  who  had  misconstrued  her 
good  intentions.  It  was  with  great  joy  that  Irma 
learned  of  the  mutual  feelings  of  kindness  to  which 
Mother  Mary's  visit  gave  rise. 

To  HER  FATHER 

Ruille,  June  16,  1840. 

I  was  very  anxious,  my  dearest  father,  about  your 
interview  with  our  Reverend  Mother.  I  was  imagining 
all  the  questions  you  would  put  to  her  and  the  replies 
she  would  make,  when,  suddenly  turning  my  head  I  saw 
her  at  my  side.  I  caught  hold  of  her  hands,  but  knew 
not  whether  I  was  at  Saint  Servan  or  she  at  Ruille.  I 
assure  you,  my  dear  father,  never  did  reality  seem  more 
like  a  dream.  In  a  few  days  this  apparition  will 
vanish,  and  then  I  can  follow  her  amongst  you.  If  she 
could  put  me  into  her  pocket  like  a  snuff-box,  how  I 
should  jump!  How  soon  I  should  be  in  your  arms! 
But  I  can  love  you  and  be  happy  without  being  at  Saint 
Servan.  We  Christians  have  other  places  than  space; 
our  souls  meet  in  God ;  there  we  see  each  other.  If  you 
only  knew,  my  father,  how  much  good  it  does  me  to 
pray  for  you!  I  should  think  myself  presumptuous 
were  it  not  to  our  good  God  that  I  address  myself. 
Imagine  my  asking  Him  that  you  may  not  go  to  Pur- 
gatory even  for  a  single  day,  and  a  thousand  other 
things  of  this  kind;  but  He  is  so  powerful  and  so  good 
that  I  dare  ask  Him  anything. 

I  receive  Holy  Communion  for  you  the  second  Tues- 
day of  each  month.  I  trust  that  occasionally  you  offer 
one  of  your  Sunday  Communions  for  me,  when  Abbe 
Sauvage  J  is  at  Lorette,  because  for  you  to  walk  as  far 

i  Monsieur  le  Fer's  confessor. 


96  IN  THE  BLESSED  VIRGIN'S  CARE 

as  the  hospital,  weak  as  you  are,  would  be,  I  think,  too 
much  of  a  triumph  over  your  dear  "laziness."  By  the 
way,  do  you  not  know  that  to  make  peace  among  com- 
batants, one  must  have  a  great  deal  of  strength?  My 
dear  father,  you  are  not  much  stronger  than  I,  and  can 
you  imagine  me  as  trying  to  separate  three  butchers 
who  are  fighting?  I  am  joking  now,  but  indeed  I  be- 
came pale  while  reading  Cecile's  letter,  to  think  you  had 
been  struck  and  insulted  in  such  a  manner;  then  I 
blushed  on  reflecting  that  I  had  read  a  thousand  times, 
without  being  touched,  the  outrages  Jesus  endured  for 
me  during  His  Passion.  Oh!  I  do  not  wish  hereafter 
to  be  insensible  to  my  Savior's  sufferings. 

I  thank  you  for  permitting  me  to  remain  in  the  re- 
ligious Order  God  has  chosen  for  me.  It  is  indeed  too 
beautiful  for  me;  as  I  am  worth  so  little,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  found  a  special  one  humbler  than  the  clay 
to  suit  my  level. 

During  the  stay  of  the  Mother  General  in  Brittany, 
and  after  her  visit  to  Saint  Servan,  Irma  wrote : 


To  HER  SISTER  PEPA 

Ruille,  July,  1840. 

I  was  happy  to  receive  your  letter  and  Mother  Mary's 
also.  I  am  glad  you  appreciate  her,  notwithstanding 
all  your  prejudices.  She  says  you  are  very  cheerful, 
but  that  Eugenie  is  thin  enough  to  disconcert  one.  I 
quote  her  expressions.  I  am  sure  you  asked  her  many 
questions  and  the  name  of  Irma  rang  out  in  the  air 
more  than  once.  We  must  thank  God  for  all  this  hap- 
piness, for  it  is  He  that  sends  it.  I  had  some  fears 
concerning  the  interview;  but  I  told  the  Blessed  Virgin 
to  arrange  all.  See  how  she  has  heard  me.  I  have  an 
extraordinary  power  over  the  Hearts  of  Jesus  and 
Mary,  so  much  so  that  I  scarcely  dare  ask  a  superfluous 
thing  for  fear  of  being  taken  at  my  word.  You  laugh, 
perhaps,  but  you  ought  not  to  be  surprised,  as  Our  Lord, 


LITTLE  LOUIS  97 

who  cannot  lie,  has  said,  "Whatsoever  you  ask  the 
Father  in  my  name  shall  be  granted  to  you."  Well, 
when  I  am  not  gratified  immediately,  I  say  to  the  good 
God,  "If  I  asked  this  of  my  father  and  mother,  they 
would  surely  grant  it  if  possible."  So  you  understand, 
God  cannot  be  less  generous,  and  I  get  what  I  desire. 
You  must  have  felt  somewhat  the  effect  of  my  prayers. 
I  offer  the  eleventh  day  of  each  month  for  you  and  the 
ninth  for  Eugenie.  Please  offer  these  same  days  for 
my  intentions;  that  will  be  another  link  between  us. 

I  am  glad  your  soul  is  calm.  Try  to  profit  by  this  to 
communicate  often.  Weak  creatures  like  us  need  a 
support.  I  assure  you  there  is  no  more  salutary  remedy 
than  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament.  Without 
fasts,  without  great  mortifications,  we  reach  the  goal, 
which  is  to  love  God  and  to  do  His  holy  will.  Believe 
me,  and  take  this  in  all  confidence. 

Mother  Mary  says  she  found  little  Louis  l  very  gentle 
and  very  good,  and  that  she  was  charmed  with  him ;  that 
he  still  throws  himself  with  all  the  simplicity  of  his  age, 
into  the  arms  of  all  who  will  take  him.  This  was  rather 
a  subtle  hint  for  his  sister  Irma,  whose  hands  and  arms 
have  been  cut  off  since  she  is  here ;  but  the  remarks  about 
little  Louis  have  given  me  great  pleasure,  and  make  me 

i  Little  Louis  was  scarcely  eight  years  old  when  Irma  wrote  these  lines. 
As  he  was  the  Benjamin  of  a  large  family,  and  very  delicate,  he  was  the 
spoiled  child  of  his  mother.  With  all  his  good  qualities  he  was  subject 
to  a  fault  which  was  the  despair  of  his  brothers  and  sisters.  For  the 
least  contradiction,  and  even  for  none  at  all,  little  Louis  groaned  and 
screamed  for  whole  hours.  There  would  be  no  tears  on  his  fresh,  rosy 
cheeks,  yet  his  screams  would  continue,  and  the  willful  child,  thanks 
to  the  four  stairways  of  the  house,  would  run  up  and  down,  while  the 
family,  almost  breathless,  heard  the  voice,  without  ever  being  able  to 
catch  its  owner.  Sometimes  his  father  would  put  him  into  the  street. 
Here  he  hushed  subito,  and,  to  avoid  remarks  of  the  passers-by,  would  crawl 
along  the  wall  and  return  home.  When  in  the  evening  Irma  would  ask  him 
if  his  conscience  did  not  reproach  him  with  anything,  Louis  would  reply, 
"Oh !  it  is  so  disagreeable  to  have  a  conscience."  His  father  began  to  employ 
another  means  to  correct  him;  this  was  the  "journal"  of  Louis's  life.  The 
family  met  once  a  week  for  the  reading  of  his  notes  and  to  decide  whether 
he  should  be  rewarded  or  punished.  But  phrases  like  this,  "For  two  hours 
Louis  screeched  like  an  owl  and  boohooed  like  a  calf,"  covered  him  with 
confusion  and  proved  his  greatest  punishment.  Gradually  the  good  father 
obtained  the  amendment  so  earnestly  desired. 


98  LITTLE  LOUIS 

hope  for  his  entire  conversion.  Elvire,  she  says,  is  still 
only  a  child,  but  my  Clementine  is  very  reasonable. 
Finally  she  described  her  visit  to  my  grandmother,  their 
little  quarrel  and  reconciliation,  which  ended  with  the 
kiss  of  peace.  She  talked  a  long  time  of  my  father, 
"so  esteemed  and  so  loved  in  his  native  city."  I  have 
no  doubt  that  our  good  Mother  caught  the  contagion. 


CHAPTER  X 

MOTHER  THEODORE   GOES   TO   AMERICA — FOUNDATION 
OF  SAINT  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 

THE  date  fixed  for  the  departure  of  the  Sisters  of 
Providence  for  America  was  approaching.  In 
consideration  of  the  immense  distance  separat- 
ing the  new  foundation  from  the  Mother  House,  Mon- 
seigneur  Bouvier,  Bishop  of  Le  Mans  and  Ecclesiastical 
Superior  of  the  Congregation,  had  made  an  agreement 
with  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere  of  Vincennes,  as  to  the 
authority  Mother  Theodore  should  henceforth  possess, 
and  the  manner  of  observing  in  America  several  points 
of  the  Rule.  Mother  Theodore  was  sent  as  foundress, 
and  remained  the  Superior  General  of  the  Sisters  of 
Providence  in  Indiana  until  her  death,  May  14, 1856. 

Mother  Theodore  went  to  Ruille  to  spend  the  fort- 
night preceding  her  departure.  She  was  to  take  with 
her  five  religious;  one  of  them,  Sister  Olympiade,  had 
belonged  to  the  establishment  of  Soulaines.  Nothing, 
however,  could  soften  the  regret  this  good  superior  felt 
in  not  having  Irma.  In  her  plans  and  projects  of  de- 
parture she  had  pictured  everything  as  shared  by  this 
dear  daughter.  Like  another  Ignatius  called  to  bear 
the  seeds  of  the  Gospel  to  distant  lands,  must  she  be 
deprived  of  her  Francis  Xavier?  Together  they  had 
formed  their  pious  plans  for  the  mission;  together  they 
were  to  have  cultivated  the  still  virgin  soil  of  Indiana, 
and  to  have  gathered  the  harvest  of  living  wheat  for  the 
granary  of  their  Heavenly  Father. 

99 


100 

With  her  warm  imagination  and  her  heart  overflow- 
ing with  youth  and  love,  Irma  could  paint  in  the  colors 
of  hope,  the  pangs  of  separation  and  exile.  Like  a 
brilliant  sunbeam  penetrating  the  luxuriant  and  somber 
forests  of  the  New  World,  her  fancy  could  clothe  the 
bare  trunks,  the  reeds,  the  creeping  vines,  and  the  pale 
flowerets  with  a  thousand  delightful  tints,  and  give  them 
perfume  and  beauty.  But  the  sacrifice  in  all  its  nudity 
appeared  to  Mother  Theodore.  At  the  meridian  of  life 
she  saw  herself  obliged  to  break  every  habit,  to  say 
good-by  to  her  country  and  her  religious  family.  She 
could  not  open  her  soul  to  her  young  friend,  and  her 
frank  nature  suffered  from  this  silence  and  from  Irma's 
sweet  resignation.  Thus  did  God  present  to  her  lips 
the  chalice  which  He  offers  to  His  elect,  and  which  He 
Himself  drank  to  the  very  dregs.  It  is  thus  that  God 
fashions  the  soul.  Though  the  sacrifice  caused  suffer- 
ing to  Mother  Theodore's  loving  heart,  it  did  not  shake 
her  resolution.  The  faint  clear  whisper  of  grace  alone 
is  more  powerful  with  a  faithful  soul  than  all  the  voices 
of  nature. 

Irma's  letters  show  how  deep  was  her  emotion  on  see- 
ing again  this  beloved  Sister,  from  whom  she  was  so  soon 
to  be  separated,  uncertain  whether  she  should  ever  en- 
joy the  happiness  of  rejoining  her.  She  endeavors, 
however,  to  hide  her  grief  from  her  mother. 

July,  1840. 

I  have  had  the  pleasure,  my  beloved  mother,  of  again 
seeing  my  dear  Mother  Theodore.  I  cannot  tell  you 
what  feelings  agitated  us.  We  are  very  reasonable, 
however,  hoping  to  see  each  other  again  next  year.  I 
must  strengthen  myself  and  submit  with  patience. 
Mother  Mary  has  seen  you,  I  trust,  and  has  told  you  of 
the  approaching  departure  of  our  Sisters.  Those  dear 


THE  SISTERS'  DEPARTURE  101 

Sisters!  My  heart  will  follow  them  over  the  ocean  and 
afterwards  as  far  as  their  dear  mission  at  Vincennes. 
Excuse  me  for  not  writing  more,  but  I  am  tired  and  can 
do  nothing  but  talk  with  Mother  Theodore.  How 
much  she  regrets  not  having  met  you!  But  her  heart 
knows  and  loves  you. 

A  little  later  Irma  wrote  of  the  departure  to  one  of  her 
sisters : 

July,  1840. 

They  are  gone!  Last  night  at  nine  o'clock  dear 
Mother  Theodore  and  the  companions  of  her  exile,  all 
broken-hearted,  left  this  dear  home.  I  was  calm  until 
the  end;  but  afterwards  my  nerves  were  so  unstrung 
that  poor  Sister  Eudoxie  had  to  take  me  to  her  room 
to  spend  the  night.  We  remained  sitting  up  in  bed 
until  midnight.  I  had,  it  seems,  an  attack  of  resigna- 
tion to  the  holy  will  of  God,  and  Sister  Eudoxie  was 
nearly  in  the  same  state  as  myself.  All!  if  you  knew 
how  much  we  love  one  another  here.  It  was  our  Sisters 
who  left  us;  imagine  how  we  wept.  You  should  write 
a  few  lines  to  Mother  Theodore;  it  would  do  her  so 
much  good.  I  thought  that  my  Sisters  in  leaving  had 
carried  off  all  my  happiness ;  but  this  morning,  on  going 
into  the  chapel,  I  saw  that  they  had  left  me  my  most 
precious  treasure — my  Savior  Jesus  and  His  holy  will. 
His  altar  is  my  refuge.  I  shall  weep  at  His  feet.  I 
shall  speak  to  Him  of  the  absent  ones  and  of  my  dear 
mission.  I  shall  learn  from  Him  how  to  practice  the 
virtue  of  resignation;  and  thus  I  shall  still  be  happy. 
My  future  is  to  love  and  to  suffer. 

Soon  my  Sisters  will  be  on  the  ocean  and  will  have 
only  the  God  of  the  heavens  and  of  the  sea,  while  I  shall 
still  have  Jesus  in  the  Eucharist.  How  I  shall  pray 
for  them!  But  later,  when  they  are  in  their  little 
chapel  in  Indiana  and  I  on  the  waves,  ah! — they  will 
return  my  prayers ! 

Some  days  later  she  wrote  again  to  her  sister : 


102  STATE  OF  HEALTH 

In  the  midst  of  my  anguish  I  force  my  soul  to  remain 
calm,  and,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  succeed.  Affection 
for  creatures,  even  the  most  perfect,  must  not  trouble 
it,  because  God  wishes  to  see  His  image  always  reflected 
there. 

Do  you  remember,  Cecile,  our  pretty  Ranee  on  beau- 
tiful summer  mornings?  How  faithfully  it  reflects  the 
sky  and  clouds,  and  how  glittering  it  appears  in  the 
golden  rays  of  the  rising  sunl  The  large  fishing  boats 
glide  slowly  over  its  tranquil  waters.  Often  their  sails, 
wet  with  the  beneficent  dews  of  the  night,  drop  their 
shining  tears  into  the  depths  of  the  river,  and  these  del- 
icate pearls  increase  its  volume  without  diminishing  its 
clearness.  Thus  may  the  celestial  dew  of  affliction  pen- 
etrate the  crystal  of  our  souls,  and,  far  from  injuring 
the  Divine  image  whose  impression  we  carefully  guard, 
may  it  rather  impart  more  consistency  and  beauty. 

To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

Ruille,  August  4,  1840. 

All  the  details  you  gave  me  of  the  Month  of  Mary 
greatly  interested  me.  It  does  me  much  good  to  know 
my  children  are  not  abandoned.  I  often  pray  for  them 
and  for  you. 

My  dear  Eugenie,  I  consider  you  very  fortunate  to 
have  the  privilege  of  making  the  Blessed  Virgin  loved, 
and  to  do  this  despite  your  headaches  and  your  re- 
pugnances, and  the  fact  that  you  are  not  by  inclination 
a  pastor.  As  for  myself,  I  am  pleased  with  being  useless 
here  and  in  knowing  it.  True,  considering  the  results, 
I  have  been  so  all  my  life;  but  I  did  not  know  it.  There 
is  no  bitterness  in  the  words,  "I  am  useless."  I  am 
satisfied  to  be  thus,  because  God  wills  it;  and  then  if 
you  knew  the  advantage  it  is  to  me!  Jesus  keeps  me 
for  Himself.  I  make  Him  continual  visits,  not  very 
long  ones,  it  is  true,  for  I  still  have  my  former  infirmity, 
and  it  is  even  worse.  Sister  Eudoxie  had  the  kindness 
to  mention  it  first.  She  said  it  was  not  possible  for  me 
to  remain  any  length  of  time  in  the  same  place,  or  even 


SODALITY  OF  THE  BLESSED  VIRGIN         103 

in  the  same  employment,  and  she  sees  to  it  that  I  have 
a  variety.  So  I  continue  those  "eclipses"  which  afflicted 
my  poor  mother  so  much,  and  which  really  are  neces- 
sary for  my  life.  This  malady  causes  me  great  hu- 
miliation; after  a  while  I  shall  pass  to  the  butterfly 
state.  But  what  is  to  be  done?  I  have,  however,  just 
finished  an  apron  for  one  of  the  Sisters,  the  first  work 
of  the  kind  which  I  have  actually  accomplished  since  I 
came  here,  and,  as  it  was  well  and  promptly  done,  I  went 
to  show  it  to  everybody.  Good  little  Sister  Calixta, 
a  niece  of  the  Sister  you  saw  at  home,  put  on  the  band ; 
but  anyhow  I  worked  very  hard  at  it.  I  fear  this  will 
not  reestablish  my  reputation,  because  I  am  growing 
as  lazy  as  an  old  dog  that  would  rather  stay  in  his 
kennel  than  go  hunting. 

All  that  you  told  me  of  our  sodality  confirms  me  in 
my  opinion  that  the  Holy  Ghost  inspired  us  to  choose 
Abbe  Cardonnet  as  director.  Oh!  what  an  election.  I 
shall  remember  it  a  long  time,  as  well  as  the  big  paper 
which  contained  my  vote.  There  will  soon  be  an  elec- 
tion here,  but  I  think  our  Mother  will  be  reflected. 
Whatever  may  happen  I  am  sure  never  to  change  su- 
perior. I  have  one  for  life,  whom  the  good  God  will 
not  take  away.  She  is  yours  too.  Oh!  how  good  she 
is,  and  how  happy  we  are  in  being  able  to  call  her 
Mother!  I  entreat  you  to  ask  Our  Lord  the  grace  to 
make  me  love  her  more  and  more  and  to  pray  often  to 
her.  It  is  a  shame  to  be  obliged  to  ask  Him  this;  but 
since  I  am  so  unfortunate  as  to  require  it,  I  would 
rather  acknowledge  it  to  you.  On  Saturday  I  feel 
nearer  to  you,  because  I  think  you  are  often  with  the 
Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  O  my  beloved  sister,  do  not  re- 
gret your  inability  to  shed  tears  over  me.  I  am  so 
happy!  We  love  each  other  dearly — of  that  we  have 
no  doubt — so  let  us  think  of  it  no  more,  but  keep  our 
tears  for  repentance,  love  and  gratitude.  Providence 
has  watched  over  us  both;  let  us,  then,  love  Jesus  and 
Mary  with  peaceful  confidence.  If  we  have  to  suffer, 
let  it  be  a  joy  for  us,  since  we  shall  have  eternity  for 
rest  and  rejoicing. 


104-  LETTER  TO  HER  FATHER 

I  have  not  yet  resignation  enough  for  the  sufferings 
of  others.  During  the  three  weeks  Sister  Eudoxie  was 
ill  I  found  myself  the  Irma  of  old.  Poor  Sister  suf- 
fered a  great  deal.  She  told  me  the  same  things  you 
did,  but  I  was  not  any  better. 

The  Sister  who  visited  you  has  spoken  much  of  you 
all;  but  Pepa  has  captivated  her.  Cecile  was  right; 
this  Sister  is  a  Mademoiselle  Lepinay.  Her  niece,  who 
is  very  gentle,  only  sixteen  years  old,  was  called 
Eugenie  before  being  Sister  Calixta.  I  love  her  much; 
it  is  impossible  not  to  love  a  Eugenie  under  whatever 
form  she  may  present  herself.  Adieu;  pray  for 
your  Irma. 

To  HER  FATHER 

Ruille,  August  10,  1840. 

Although  your  letter  is  very  old,  I  find  it  excellent, 
and  I  have  covered  one  of  my  spiritual  reading  books 
with  it,  so  that,  as  it  is  rather  pious,  I  can  read  it  over 
and  over.  Since  doing  so  I  find  I  pray  for  you  oftener, 
because  as  I  read  your  desire  for  detachment  from  all 
earthly  things,  I  earnestly  ask  it  for  you,  my  dear 
father.  As  this  is  the  second  Tuesday  of  the  month, 
I  received  Holy  Communion  for  you  this  morning.  I 
prayed  that  you  might  always  be  submissive  to  the  will 
of  God,  for  herein  is  all  the  happiness  of  this  life  which 
passes  away  so  quickly.  As  time  goes  on,  I  see  more 
clearly  that  God  wishes  me  to  be  here,  and  my  sorrow 
for  Vincennes  vanishes  before  the  radiant  sun  of  the 
Divine  Will.  But  I  feel  better,  even  physically,  since 
the  Sisters  left,  so  I  beg  you,  dear  Father,  be  tranquil 
and  content.  My  good  superior  has  been  sincerely 
happy  in  thinking  how  pleased  you  are  with  her  de- 
cision. She  talked  to  me  for  a  long  while  about  you. 
It  seems  there  is  a  kind  of  contagion  which  diffuses  it- 
self upon  those  who  see  you — even  a  veil  does  not  shelter 
one  from  it — and  I  believe  Mother  Mary  has  a  little 
partiality  for  you;  in  fact  she  has  acknowledged  it  al- 
most publicly. 


FEAST  OF  THE  ASSUMPTION  105 

I  am  happy  because  I  can  speak  of  you  to  some  one 
who  knows  you.  I  can  truly  say  who  knows  you,  for 
she  has  a  penetrating  eye  and  has  described  you  per- 
fectly. You  all  pleased  her  very  much,  and  I  am  such 
a  child  that  I  was  delighted  to  hear  it.  Ask  Aunt  de 
la  Salle  whether  she  has  not  been  very  deservedly 
pointed  out  as  the  worst  of  the  grown  children  at  Lo- 
rette — no  reference  was  made  to  the  second  generation, 
which  would  be  quite  another  matter.  I  was  much 
amused  to  hear  Mother  pass  you  all  in  review.  Why 
was  I  not  there  to  embrace  you  after  each  name  and 
each  description?  My  dear  father,  I  am  happy,  very 
happy.  Rejoice,  then,  with  me,  for  the  pure  joy  God 
gives  me.  Bless  Him  for  it,  and  love  as  ever  your 
petite  file. 

To  HER  SISTER  CECILE 

Ruille,  August  15, 1840. 

To-day  is  my  feast  and,  notwithstanding  all  my 
memories,  I  am  not  only  happy  but  even  almost  gay. 
How  powerful  the  Blessed  Virgin  is!  Last  evening, 
however,  the  sky  of  my  soul  was  dark,  and  heavy 
clouds  mounted  above  the  horizon.  I  should  have  been 
glad  could  I  have  spoken  to  our  Mother;  but  I  availed 
myself  of  an  opportunity  of  going  to  Sister  Eudoxie's 
room.  I  remained  all  the  time  she  was  undressing, 
but  instead  of  telling  her  what  I  had  in  my  soul  I  re- 
lated nothing  but  nonsense. 

Imagine  the  Sisters  from  Brest  arriving  at  night 
with  some  postulants,  and  the  good  Countess  de  Maresco 
at  half  past  nine  o'clock  going  down-stairs  in  her  night- 
cap! I  thought  when  I  saw  her  in  the  kitchen  among 
those  who  had  just  arrived,  that  she  too  was  a  postu- 
lant; for,  though  she  called  me  by  name,  I  did  not 
recognize  her.  I  was  amazed  and  thought  to  myself, 
How  will  Sister  Eudoxie  ever  begin  to  form  this  old 
candidate?  She  is  more  than  sixty  years  old.  Well, 
my  dear,  it  was  in  talking  about  this  that  I  spent  the 
little  time  I  could  have  employed  in  consulting  about  my 


106  PATRONAL  FEASTS 

troubles;  as  you  may  suppose,  I  reproached  myself 
very  much  when  alone  in  my  room. 

I  felt  like  crying,  but  I  resisted.  I  prayed  to  Saint 
Anne,  whom  our  chaplain  has  so  often  recommended 
us  to  invoke,  since  he  went  to  Auray  to  celebrate  her 
feast,  July  26th.  Then  I  prayed  to  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
and  when  good  Sister  Stephen,  the  infirmarian,  came 
to  visit  me  I  was  almost  asleep.  This  morning  our 
good  God  calmed  me  entirely,  and  the  Blessed  Virgin 
has  dissipated  all  my  anxieties.  Yesterday  I  made  a 
crown  of  immortelles  for  one  of  her  statues,  which  is 
very  old  and  to  which  I  often  make  little  pilgrimages. 
You  see  I  still  preserve  my  love  for  antiques. 

Last  evening  our  Mother  had  her  cheeks  nicely  used ; 
it  was  her  feast.  I  told  her  of  the  part  of  your  letter 
which  related  to  that  subject;  she  did  not  deny  the 
fact,  and  when  the  time  for  wishing  her  a  happy  feast 
came  she  said,, "Come  and  kiss  me  four  times,"  but  I 
followed  your  counsel  of  economy  and  contented  myself 
with  two;  of  course  this  was  remarked.  I  must  tell 
you  that  when  Father  Besnoin  had  seen  her  he  said  to 
me:  "My  daughter,  I  am  glad  you  are  here.  This  is 
a  woman  whom  you  surely  will  not  love  too  much;  she 
is  old  and  ugly.'*  You  can  imagine  how  amused 
Mother  was  when  I  told  her  this  the  next  day.  He 
could  not  have  said  the  same  of  Sister  Eudoxie,  who 
must  have  been  charming  and  who  still  retains  traces  of 
her  former  beauty.  I  did  not  intend  to  write  a  letter 
like  this,  I  had  planned  one  full  of  devotion.  No  doubt 
the  good  God,  seeing  how  much  I  need  diversion, 
changed  Himself  the  course  of  my  thoughts. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Ruille,  September  8, 1840. 

If  I  have  reckoned  correctly,  Sunday  will  be  your 
feast,  my  beloved  mother,  and  Saturday  will  be  the  time 
for  good  wishes.  My  letter  perhaps  will  be  in  ad- 
vance ;  if  so  it  will  be  like  my  heart,  which  always  takes 
the  lead  when  there  is  question  of  wishing  you  happiness. 


IMPROVEMENT  IN  HEALTH  107 

I  should  like  so  much  to  be  with  you  Saturday  eve- 
ning to  embrace  you !  I  am  so  well  satisfied  here,  how- 
ever, that  even  regrets  reverence  the  walls  of  the  convent 
and  remain  at  the  door  without  venturing  to  penetrate 
into  my  heart.  So  instead  of  saying,  Would  I  were 
with  my  brothers  and  sisters!  I  shall  repeat  to  you, 
I  am  happy,  very  happy.  God  gives  me  the  hundred- 
fold in  this  life.  I  have  made  an  excellent  retreat.  I 
do  not  know  whether  others  in  my  place  would  dare 
to  say,  "I  have  made  a  retreat,"  because  I  walked  and 
talked  half  the  day.  But  it  was  not  my  fault.  Father 
Besnoin  gave  me  for  my  penance  to  recreate  myself 
and  to  be  quiet.  He  has  conducted  me  just  as  he 
wished.  Indeed  if  God  were  to  ask  me,  What  have  you 
done  with  your  soul?  I  could  reply  to  him  with  as- 
surance, You  have  not  given  it  to  me  to  keep.  .  .  . 

All  were  very  well  satisfied  with  Father  Besnoin. 
His  conferences  were  charming.  I  made  some  little  ex- 
tracts which  Sister  Saint  Benedict  has  copied.  She  is 
going  to  give  you  a  parcel  of  letters  and  all  sorts  of 
other  things,  as  well  as  news  of  me;  for  she  promised 
that  she  would  go  to  see  you.  She  is  very  good,  very 
kind;  and  she  will  doubtless  tell  you  that  our  Mother 
has  been  reflected.  The  ceremony  is  very  imposing. 
My  heart  beat  very  fast  when,  after  an  interval  of  sev- 
eral hours,  the  bishop  entered  the  chapel  and  said,  "My 
daughters,  I  announce  to  you  that  you  have  a  superior." 
Who  was  she?  It  was  Mother  Mary;  for  she  sat  down 
near  the  bishop,  and  we  all  went  and  kissed  her  hand. 
I  assure  you  I  pressed  it,  and  my  tears  flowed  in  spite 
of  myself.  I  pity  her  much,  as  well  as  all  who  hold 
office  in  a  community ;  there  are  no  honors,  there  is  noth- 
ing but  responsibility.  If  I  dared  ask  anything  from 
God,  I  would,  with  clasped  hands  entreat  Him  to  place 
me  rather  under  obedience  to  the  last  sister-coadjutrix 
than  to  make  me  her  superior;  but  as  I  know  that 
cowardice  and  laziness  would  prompt  my  prayer,  I 
shall  wait  to  make  it  until  it  proceeds  from  humility. 

I  send  you  for  your  feast  a  little  pansy  from  my 


108  NEW  NOVICES 

garden.  I  have  another  present  for  you  also;  it  is  the 
news  that  for  the  last  fifteen  days  my  health  has  been 
much  better.  I  am  beginning  to  have  a  good  appetite, 
and  am  not  obliged  to  eat  merely  in  virtue  of  holy 
obedience,  I  am  getting  some  color,  they  say — for 
here  you  have  to  rely  on  the  eyes  of  others  to  know  how 
you  look.  I  have  resumed  my  studies  and  am  no  longer 
under  the  law  of  liberty. 

The  novitiate  has  been  renewed,  with  the  exception 
of  two  or  three  who  came  in  the  course  of  the  year.  I 
am  sorry  the  old  ones  have  gone;  I  loved  them  all 
sincerely.  New  ones  have  taken  their  place;  thus  the 
things  of  this  world  are  always  changing.  We  are 
twenty  at  present;  twenty-eight  have  taken  the  habit 
this  year.  During  the  retreat  we  were  fifty,  almost  a 
corps. 

There  is  a  young  person  here  from  Orleans  who  re- 
minds me  of  Olivia.  Fancy  her  coming  into  a  con- 
vent with  all  her  little  elegant  refinements,  white  hands, 
manners,  tone,  fashionable  appearance,  all;  the  single 
difference  is  that  this  one  desires  to  become  a  religious. 
She  says  Our  Lord  was  a  very  distinguished  gentleman, 
who  certainly  had  very  good  manners,  and  so  on. 
Imagine  how  she  amuses  us !  How  agreeable  they  must 
be  to  God  who,  for  His  sake,  despoil  themselves  cour- 
ageously, as  she  does,  of  all  the  vestments  of  worldli- 
ness!  As  mine  covered  only  my  soul,  they  were  more 
difficult  to  see  and  take  away.  Only  the  hand  of  God 
could  succeed  in  doing  so.  I  trust  He  will  always  help 
me,  for  alone  I  have  no  strength. 

To  HER  SISTER  PEPA 

Ruille,  September  26,  1840. 

Do  not  trouble  yourselves  about  sending  me  any- 
thing, my  dear  ones;  I  am  already  too  rich;  it  is  my 
distress.  It  seems  I  entered  religion  to  be  less  poor 
than  in  the  world.  I  have  nothing  old,  nothing  ugly  but 
myself.  I  sigh  over  it  before  God  and  with  our  Mother, 
who  then  redoubles  her  watchfulness  to  see  that  I  want 


THE  MISTRESS  OF  NOVICES  109 

nothing.  No  one  understands  me  here,  not  even  Sister 
Eudoxie,  although  she  has  received  a  particular  gift 
for  the  discernment  of  spirits  and  the  government  of 
hearts.  Dear  Sister  Eudoxie !  For  three  days  she  has 
been  at  Le  Mans,  and  she  will  remain  there  a  whole 
week  yet.  I  am  very  anxious  to  have  her  return.  She 
is  so  good!  She  interests  herself  in  you  all  without 
knowing  you,  and  thinks  you  in  particular  would  amuse 
her  very  much. 

My  dear  Pep  a,  you  must  try  to  keep  your  good  stock 
of  gayety;  and  since  the  current  of  your  joy  has  taken 
another  direction,  you  must  not  dry  up  its  source.  I 
understand  very  well  the  state  you  are  in,  and  I  thank 
God  for  it.  It  is  better  to  be  enlightened  by  grace  now 
than  to  wait  and  see  the  vanity  of  life  by  the  pale  glim- 
mer of  the  lamp  that  will  watch  at  our  deathbed.  Little 
by  little  your  heart  will  acquire  stability.  You  have  just 
passed  through  a  crisis.  God  has  put  you  in  the  cru- 
cible to  consume  all  the  alloy;  try  now  to  be  faithful  to 
the  lights  that  you  receive.  I  was  myself  blind  and 
paralytic  when  I  came  here;  the  Lord  has  opened  my 
eyes,  but  He  has  not  yet  given  me  the  use  of  my  limbs. 
I  see  the  road,  but  I  cannot  walk.  I  scream  with  all 
my  might,  and  God  takes  me  on  His  shoulder  and 
carries  me  a  little  way.  When  I  fancy  that  I  can  go 
by  myself,  I  jump  to  the  ground,  but  at  the  first  obstacle 
I  fall  on  my  face.  I  try  to  get  up,  and  can  do  noth- 
ing but  turn  over.  I  begin  my  cries  once  more  and  the 
Lord  hastens  to  take  me  in  His  arms  again.  How  sad 
it  is,  my  dear,  to  be  so  weak  and  yet  so  proud ! 

It  was  toward  the  end  of  July,  1840,  that  Mother 
Theodore,  accompanied  by  five  other  religious,  went  to 
Havre  to  embark  for  America. 

Monsieur  Aubineau,  in  a  small  volume  entitled 
"Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods,"  and  in  his  book  "Some 
Servants  of  God,"  has  given  minute  details  of  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  Sisters  of  Providence  in  Indiana,  de- 
tails which  can  scarcely  find  place  in  this  work  proposing, 


110  ARRIVAL  AT  ST.  MARY'S 

as  it  does,  to  treat  only  of  such  particulars  of  the  mission 
as  directly  concern  Irma.  The  Sisters,  it  must  be  re- 
membered, left  in  1840,  and  the  years  that  have  passed 
since  then  have  effected  great  changes  in  the  cultivation 
of  America  and  the  means  of  communication.  Forty 
days  were  consumed  in  Mother  Theodore's  journey  to 
New  York,  and  it  was  only  after  a  longer  time  and 
many  hardships  that  she  reached  Vincennes,  the  resi- 
dence of  Monseigneur  de  la  Hailandiere ;  but  the  Sisters 
were  not  to  remain  at  Vincennes  as  they  had  expected. 
The  property  which  the  bishop  had  purchased  for  them 
was  about  sixty-three  miles  north  of  Vincennes.  At 
his  departure  from  France  he  had  intended  to  erect 
here  a  commodious  dwelling  as  a  convent,  but  other 
interests  intervened  and  prevented  the  execution  of  his 
plans.  After  some  days  of  rest  in  Vincennes,  the  Sisters 
received  the  blessing  of  their  bishop  and  started  for  the 
place  assigned  them. 

Monsieur  Aubineau  thus  relates  their  arrival  at  Saint 
Mary-of -the- Woods,  October  22,  1840: 

"They  started.  A  priest  accompanied  them.  They 
moved  on  and  plunged  into  the  wilderness.  At  last  the 
priest  stopped  the  carriage  and  announced  that  they 
had  reached  their  destination.  They  alighted,  looked 
around,  and  found  themselves  in  the  midst  of  a  forest. 
Although  they  had  anticipated  poverty,  they  had  not 
expected  this  isolation  and  destitution.  They  were 
shown  a  building  in  course  of  construction  which  was  to 
be  their  dwelling-place.  A  little  farther  on  they  saw  a 
poor  cottage  which  was  occupied  by  a  family.  Despite 
their  confidence  and  their  spirit  of  complete  sacrifice, 
this  utter  privation  aroused  in  their  hearts  some  little 
alarm.  On  asking  where  they  would  find  the  Blessed 
Sacrament,  they  were  led  to  a  hut  about  twelve  feet  long 


M.  AUBINEAU'S  DESCRIPTION  111 

and  ten  feet  wide,  and  constructed  of  the  trunks  of  trees 
laid  horizontally  one  upon  the  other.  The  door,  without 
hinges,  was  difficult  to  open  and  as  difficult  to  close.  At 
one  side  there  was  a  wide  fireplace  through  which  the 
light  came  down,  and  in  one  corner,  spread  on  some 
boards,  was  a  miserable  pallet,  the  bed  of  the  priest  in 
charge  of  this  strange  church.  At  the  other  end  was 
a  little  window  stuffed  with  rags  and  brushwood  to  keep 
out  the  cold,  which  was  already  beginning  to  be  sharp. 
Finally,  some  faded  and  torn  calico  arranged  in  the  way 
of  a  curtain  surrounded  and  sheltered  a  board  placed 
against  the  wall  and  supported  by  two  stakes  driven  into 
the  ground.  They  drew  aside  this  curtain,  and  there 
amid  that  poverty  they  recognized  the  King  of  Heaven 
and  earth  in  all  His  sweetness  and  benignity.  He  re- 
posed there  in  a  little  pyx,  with  no  tabernacle,  no  light — 
none  of  the  things  which  usually  surround  His  Majesty. 
When  they  saw  and  adored  their  Divine  Master  in  this 
extreme  indigence,  a  lively  image  of  the  Stable  of 
Bethlehem,  they  considered  themselves  too  well  treated 
and  blushed  at  their  momentary  weakness.  They  found 
accommodations  with  the  family  in  the  cottage,  who  gave 
up  to  them  a  small  apartment  to  be  the  living-room  of 
the  community,  and  a  garret  which  was  to  be  their  dormi- 
tory. The  evening  of  their  arrival  four  postulants 
joined  them.  God  blessed  their  work;  and  as  the  house 
of  the  Lord  is  not  made  of  stones  shaped  by  the  hands 
of  man,  but  rather  of  living  stones,  that  is,  hearts  quar- 
ried and  fashioned  by  grace,  the  Sisters  had  already 
founded  the  convent  of  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods. 

"The  little  garret  which  served  them  as  a  dormitory 
was  so  small  and  so  crowded  with  beds  that,  in  order  to 
reach  the  last,  they  had  to  walk  over  all  the  others.  Yet 
although  it  was  so  perfectly  close,  they  never  succeeded 

IMMACULATE  HEART 
NOVITIATE 


THE  CATHEDRAL  OF  VINCENNES 

in  sheltering  their  beds  from  the  rain  and  snow  which 
came  in  through  the  openings  in  the  roof.  Thus  they 
passed  the  long  and  severe  winter  of  1840—1841.  It  was 
only  at  the  end  of  that  year  that  the  Sisters  could  move 
into  their  own  house  and  open  a  boarding-school." 

Such  was  the  poverty  of  the  foundresses  of  Saint 
Mary-of-the- Woods.  Their  Right  Reverend  Father 
was  not  much  better  provided  with  this  world's  goods. 
Concerning  the  Cathedral  of  Vincennes  and  the  bishop's 
dwelling,  Mother  Theodore  wrote : 

We  went  to  the  cathedral.  Our  barn  at  Soulaines 
is  better  kept  and  more  comfortable.  On  beholding 
such  poverty  I  wept  so  bitterly  that  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  examine  the  church  that  day.  The  next  day 
I  looked  at  it  more  calmly.  It  is  a  brick  building  with 
large,  uncurtained  windows,  the  panes  of  which  are 
nearly  all  broken.  At  the  gable  end  there  is  a  sort  of 
unfinished  steeple,  resembling  a  large  chimney  in  ruins. 
The  interior  corresponds  perfectly  to  the  exterior: — a 
poor  wooden  altar;  a  Communion  railing  unfinished, 
but  which  seems  to  be  falling  from  decay ;  the  episcopal 
seat,  an  old  red  armchair  which  a  peasant  would  not 
wish  in  his  house :  in  fact,  I  never  saw  anything  so  poor 
as  this  church  at  Vincennes.  .  .  . 

I  believe  I  did  not  tell  you  about  the  bishop's  resi- 
dence. He  himself  fell  from  the  steps  into  the  snow 
when  he  started  to  make  his  first  episcopal  visit.  Al- 
though there  was  no  snow  when  we  called,  we  might 
have  fallen,  too,  for  the  six  steps  are  made  of  worm- 
eaten  planks  which  shake  under  one's  feet.  .  .  . 

The  house  of  Monseigneur  de  la  Hailandiere  is  like  a 
store,  where  the  priests  go  to  get  whatever  is  indis- 
pensable. All  that  he  has  is  theirs,  but  the  father  and 
children  often  want  what  is  most  necessary.  This  is 
why  the  church  and  house  are  in  such  a  bad  condition, 
for  before  all  things  life  must  be  sustained.  .  .  . 

May  your  part  in  this  indigence  be  to  us,  servants  of 


THE  CATHEDRAL  OF  VINCENNES  113 

Jesus  and  daughters  of  Providence,  precious  even  in 
the  most  insignificant  details!  Let  us  prefer  what  we 
should  accept  to  what  we  might  have  chosen.  In  our 
poverty  let  us  say  with  Saint  Ignatius,  "Though  many 
things  are  wanting  to  us,  may  God  not  be  wanting!" 


CHAPTER  XI 

IRMA  RECEIVES   THE  RELIGIOUS   HABIT — HER   WORK 

AT   BREST 

TOWARD  the  close  of  the  year  1840,  Mother 
Mary  granted  Irma  permission  to  receive  the 
religious  Habit.     The  favored  novice  imparts 
the  joyful  tidings  in  a  letter: 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Ruille,  December  8,  1840. 

I  did  not  expect  the  beautiful  New  Year's  gift  God 
is  going  to  give  me.  I  thought  the  year  would  close 
and  another  open  without  bringing  me  any  exterior 
change;  but  the  Lord  was  mindful  of  me.  He  wishes 
to  clothe  me  in  His  livery  and  employ  me,  according  to 
my  feeble  strength,  in  His  service.  My  dear  mother, 
could  you  but  know  how  happy  I  am!  I  was  afraid 
I  might  die  before  becoming  a  religious.  I  found  I  was 
advancing  so  slowly  in  the  path  I  pursued  that  I  feared 
I  should  never  see  the  end;  and,  besides,  I  felt  myself 
so  incapable  of  an  employment  or  of  any  fatiguing 
occupation.  But  the  Providence  of  God  is  the  "Refuge 
of  the  miserable."  Under  this  title  I  invoke  Him  every 
day  in  the  litany  composed  in  His  honor ;  and  this  sweet 
Providence,  that  has  led  me  by  such  admirable  ways, 
deigns  to  come  to  the  aid  of  my  weakness  and  to  keep 
me  in  Its  care. 

I  have  just  heard  of  Abbe  Coedro's  death.  May 
God's  holy  will  be  done!  We  almost  regret  the  hap- 
piness he  will  enjoy.  It  would  seem  men  like  him 
should  not  die;  but  God  judges  otherwise. 

114 


RECEPTION  OF  THE  HABIT  115 

Bless  your  Irma,  dearest  mamma,  and  pardon  all  the 
trouble  she  has  given  you. 

On  the  same  day  she  writes : 

To  HER  FATHER 

How  I  bless  the  moment,  my  beloved  father,  when, 
notwithstanding  all  the  anguish  of  your  heart,  you  cour- 
ageously gave  me  to  Our  Lord !  It  had  to  be  so ;  what 
seemed  folly  in  the  eyes  of  human  prudence  was  the  only 
means  of  bringing  me  here.  Do  not  weep.  God  has 
counted  all  your  tears,  my  beloved  father,  and  will  trans- 
form them  into  pearls  which  shall  beautify  your  crown 
throughout  eternity.  What  I  regret  and  what  I  weep 
over  is  that  I  have  profited  so  little  by  your  example, 
that  I  so  often  grieved  you  in  my  childhood,  and  still 
more  so  in  my  youth.  Forgive  me,  I  beg  you,  and  bless 
me  once  more.  Our  good  God  has  forgiven  me,  and 
you,  too,  have  done  so,  I  know.  How  I  shall  pray  for 
you! 

I  should  like  to  write  to  my  dear  grandmother;  but 
I  beg  you  to  say  to  her,  as  well  as  to  my  good  god- 
mother, my  uncle,  and  my  aunts,  that  I  am  very  sorry 
for  all  the  pain  I  have  ever  caused  them.  I  beg  them 
all  to  rejoice  with  me,  and  I  ask  a  Communion  when  it 
will  be  convenient  for  them.  We  shall  receive  the  Holy 
Habit  next  Sunday,  the  13th.  When  you  write  to  my 
brothers  give  them  a  thousand  loving  messages  for  me. 
Be  assured,  dear  father,  of  the  gratitude  and  love  of  your 
Irma. 

To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

(Same  date) 

The  day  has  come  at  last,  the  day  I  deserve  so  little 
to  see,  the  day  of  my  reception  of  the  Holy  Habit !  If 
you  only  knew  how  happy  I  am,  you,  too,  would  be 
happy,  for  you  are  my  second  mother  and  will  joyously 
offer  me  to  Jesus  by  the  hands  of  Mary.  This  morning 
I  thought  of  you  and  of  our  Sodality. 


116  RECEPTION  OF  THE  HABIT 

I  ask  a  Communion  from  you  and  from  my  other 
sisters  to  thank  God  for  the  great  favor  He  bestows 
upon  me.  You  must  put  a  beautiful  bouquet  before 
the  shrines  of  our  Blessed  Mother  and  of  our 
Guardian  Angel.  Please  say  a  little  prayer  to  them 
every  day  for  your  fortunate  daughter.  As  you  have 
some  claims  at  the  Providence  of  Nazareth,  you  might 
ask  the  mistresses  and  the  little  orphans  to  say  their 
beads  for  me.  Imagine  you  see  me  with  a  big  rosary  at 
my  side. —  O  my  God,  teach  me  to  say  it! —  There  was 
never  so  ignorant  a  religious  before;  still  I  am  very 
happy.  Please  ask  mamma  to  make  a  feast  for  my  dear 
poor  the  day  I  take  the  Habit.  Do  not  insist,  how- 
ever, and  tell  her  I  desire  only  what  she  finds  con- 
venient to  do.  Recommend  me  also  to  the  prayers  of 
my  good  people.  Dearest  Eugenie !  I  shall  soon  have 
to  leave  Providence  Home.  Think  what  strength  I 
shall  need.  O  my  dear  and  much-loved  sisters,  let  us 
rejoice  together.  Tell  my  cousins  and  friends,  so  that 
they  may  pray  for  me. 

She  finishes  her  letter  with  some  lines  to  her  sister 
Cecile: 

If  you  could  see  my  joy,  Cecile,  you  would  have,  if 
not  a  vocation,  at  least  the  desire  of  being  a  religious. 
What  you  tell  me  has  little  of  your  old  fancies  for  a 
vocation,  but  every  one  is  not  called  to  the  same  state; 
and,  as  Father  Besnoin  says,  (quoting  Saint  Paul), 
there  is  the  "great  Sacrament."  .  .  .  Abandon  your 
heart  to  Jesus ;  behold  Him  who  comes  to  seek  it.  Can 
you  refuse  it  to  Him  when  you  see  Him,  trembling  with 
cold  for  you,  lying  on  a  bed  of  straw  in  a  wretched 
stable?  I  say  to  you  with  good  Saint  Francis,  "Take 
one  of  His  dear  tears,  and  put  it  in  your  heart,  for  it 
will  heal  every  wound." 

I  shall  receive  the  Holy  Habit  on  the  13th  of  this 
month.  There  are  but  three  of  us  for  vesture.  Every- 
thing is  simple  here ;  we  have  no  elaborate  dressing,  as  in 
cloistered  Orders. 


RECEPTION  OF  THE  HABIT  117 

Cecile,  it  is  not  to  a  man  that  I  am  giving  myself,  but 
to  a  God.  Get  all  the  prayers  you  can  for  me,  and  you 
yourself  make  some  sacrifices  for  me.  I  will  repay  you 
later  on.  If  you  love  me,  this  is  the  time  to  prove  it 
to  your  Irma. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Ruille,  December  20,  1840. 

My  beloved  mother,  perhaps  the  time  which  has 
passed  since  my  receiving  the  Holy  Habit  has  seemed 
long  to  you,  but  I  am  like  water  frozen  into  ice,  and 
I  have  been  waiting  for  a  thaw,  that  I  might  tell  you  of 
the  new  course  I  have  entered  upon.  Knowing  your 
desire  to  hear  something  of  the  most  beautiful  day  of  my 
life,  I  shall  begin  this  letter,  though  I  do  not  know 
where  it  will  end. 

It  is  easy  to  describe  my  toilet.  I  was  dressed  in 
white  and  wore  a  white  bonnet  and  a  net»veil,  but,  as 
it  was  cold,  I  had  a  shawl  instead  of  the  mantle  that  is 
worn  in  summer.  My  companions,  Sister  Anacletus 
and  Sister  Vitalis,  were  dressed  the  same  way.  We 
carried  tapers.  The  ceremony  took  place  about  nine 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  After  the  first  Gospel  of  the 
Mass,  our  chaplain  gave  us  a  pretty  little  sermon.  He 
compared  us  to  the  three  children  released  from  the 
fiery  furnace,  and  said  that,  like  them,  we  ought  to  invite 
the  cold  and  the  ice  to  praise  the  Lord,  and  that,  in  spite 
of  the  hardness  of  the  season,  the  13th  of  December 
should  always  be  a  feast-day  for  us.  He  then  gave  us 
the  Holy  Habit,  after  having  blessed  it.  I  kissed  mine 
with  all  the  tenderness  of  a  mother  for  her  child,  then 
I  went  to  the  hall  where  I  was  dressed.  I  must  have 
been  anything  but  sightly,  for  I  cried  during  the  whole 
time.  While  we  were  dressing,  they  sang  in  the  chapel 
the  Litany  of  the  Saints  and  In  exitu  Israel.  When 
we  returned  they  gave  us  our  veils,  which  Mother  placed 
on  our  heads ;  then,  our  large  beads  and  crucifixes. 

It  is  easy  to  describe  the  exterior  ceremonies,  but  to 
tell  you  what  passed  in  my  soul  would  be  utterly  impos- 


118  RECEPTION  OF  THE  HABIT 

sible.  God  alone,  who  sent  torrents  of  joy  into  it,  can 
know  the  sentiments  of  gratitude  and  tenderness  that  I 
felt.  How  I  thank  you,  my  dear  mother,  for  having 
given  me  to  Our  Lord.  Father  tells  me  in  his  excellent 
letter  to  prepare  for  combats,  and  he  is  right;  for  the 
life  that  I  have  embraced  is  a  life  of  sacrifice  and  death. 
But  God  gives  a  little  foretaste  of  heaven  to  His  soldiers 
to  put  them  in  good  heart  on  the  day  they  are  clothed  in 
His  uniform. 

The  rest  of  the  day  passed  off  very  well.  I  was 
obliged  to  have  a  second  cap,  as  my  new  costume  is  not 
suited  to  caresses  and  felicitations.  In  honor  of  our 
betrothal  my  companions  and  I  dined  at  the  superiors' 
table,  and  permission  to  talk  was  given.  We  had  a 
dinner  appropriate  for  the  feast.  I  have  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  in  putting  my  cap  on  straight.  Sister 
Eudoxie  is  giving  me  lessons.  I  have  had  a  severe  cold 
during  the  past  three  weeks,  but  it  is  better  since  I  re- 
ceived the  Habit.  In  the  evening  of  the  day  I  first  wore 
my  dear  costume  I  felt  a  strong  dislike  to  take  it  off. 
I  placed  my  large  beads  around  my  neck.  Blessed 
chain!  Lead  me  to  Jesus  through  Mary! 

After  receiving  the  religious  Habit,  the  novices  left 
Ruille  to  begin  their  labors  under  obedience  in  the  dif- 
ferent missions  in  charge  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence. 
Irma,  like  her  companions,  left  the  novitiate  not  without 
regret;  for  her  loving  heart  was  attached  to  it,  all  the 
more  strongly  as  God  was  the  bond  that  united  her  to 
her  superiors  and  Sisters.  To  soften  the  separation, 
Mother  Mary  chose  Brest  as  Irma's  place  of  residence. 
Two  of  her  brothers,  for  whom  she  had  a  special  af- 
fection, were  there,  Charles,  a  lieutenant,  and  Henri,  a 
commissary  in  the  navy.  At  Brest  also  lived  Madame 
Thyrat  and  Madame  Gicquel  des  Touches — born  Le  Fer 
de  la  Saudre — both  relatives  and  intimate  friends  of  her 
mother  and  of  her  aunts.  On  her  way  Irma  passed 


VISIT  OF  MME.  LE  FER  119 

through  Rennes,  where  Mother  Mary  allowed  her  to 
spend  a  few  days  in  order  to  see  some  other  members 
of  her  family.  To  make  known  this  new  joy  Irma 
wrote  at  once  to  her  parents: 

Next  Friday,  January  8,  I  shall  be  at  Rennes  with 
the  Sisters  of  Providence  in  the  Rue  Haute  waiting 
to  meet  those  of  you  who  will  come  to  embrace  me.  I 
leave  the  choice  to  the  holy  will  of  God;  yet  I  venture 
to  remind  my  father  that  it  is  only  fifteen  leagues  from 
Saint  Servan  to  Rennes.  If  he  is  afraid  of  the  cold  he 
can  wear  his  famous  yellow  wolf,1  or  he  may  even  put 
on  his  three  winter  overcoats.  I  know  how  delicate  his 
health  is,  and  how  precious  it  is  to  us  all.  I  leave 
my  wishes,  therefore,  in  the  hands  of  my  Heavenly 
Father  first;  for  my  other  father  might  try  to  satisfy 
them  despite  the  rules  of  prudence. 

Do  not  be  sad  on  account  of  my  departure  from 
Ruille,  for  in  putting  me  under  Sister  Saint  Ange,  su- 
perior of  Brest,  God  treats  me  like  a  spoiled  child. 
They  say  it  is  a  very  fine  establishment,  with  twelve 
Sisters  and  a  chapel  where  Jesus  dwells  in  the  Blessed 
Sacrament.  With  Jesus,  what  else  can  we  desire? 

Monsieur  le  Fer,  who  always  forgot  himself  for 
others,  left  to  his  wife  and  daughters  the  pleasure  of 
going  to  Rennes.  They  could  be  entertained  at  the 
convent  and  could  thus  profit  more  fully  by  the  short 
time  Irma  was  able  to  grant  them.  Madame  le  Fer 
and  her  two  daughters,  Eugenie  and  Cecile,  expected  to 
meet  Irma  at  Rennes  when  they  arrived  there.  Great, 
indeed,  was  their  disappointment  and  uneasiness  on 
learning  that  she  was  detained  by  the  snow  and  ice. 
Their  painful  suspense  was  prolonged  nearly  a  week, 
during  which  time  they  received  neither  news  nor  letters. 
Their  anxiety,  however,  was  at  length  turned  to  joy 

i  A  fur  coat. 


120  LETTER  TO  MOTHER  THEODORE 

when  the  dear  traveler  was  in  their  arms.  Although  the 
horse  had  proceeded  at  a  slow  pace,  Irma  had  been  ex- 
posed to  many  dangers  in  the  little  carriage  from  Ruille, 
but  Providence  protected  her  always  and  everywhere. 
Referring  afterwards  to  this  happy  reunion,  Madame 
le  Fer  said:  "Sometimes  the  happiness  of  heaven  is 
compared  to  that  of  the  mother  on  recovering  the  child 
she  had  thought  to  be  lost.  I  do  not  think  a  greater 
joy  can  be  felt  on  earth.  I  felt  this  happiness  in  all  its 
purity,  for  it  came  from  God.  I  had  offered  my 
daughter  to  Him  in  sacrifice,  and  He  had  given  her  back 
to  me." 

Concerning  this  same  event,  Madame  le  Fer  wrote 
to  Mother  Theodore,  who  she  knew  was  anxiously 
awaiting  news  from  Irma  at  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods : 

The  good  God  has  been  very  good  to  me.  He  re- 
united me  to  my  Irma  for  a  few  days.  Of  our  visit  I 
shall  give  some  details  to  you — you  to  whom  I  have  so 
often  spoken  of  my  troubles.  The  day  after  the  re- 
ception of  her  letter,  Eugenie,  Cecile,  and  I  went  to 
Rennes  where  she  was  to  arrive  the  next  day.  We  pro- 
ceeded at  once  to  the  convent  of  the  Sisters  of  Provi- 
dence, but  to  our  great  regret  the  dear  child  was  not  there, 
and  we  found  a  short  letter  in  which  she  said  that  she  was 
obliged  to  postpone  her  journey  on  account  of  the  snow, 
which  had  fallen  in  abundance.  My  dear  Sister,  we 
remained  there  five  days  without  receiving  any  news  of 
the  dear  child.  Finally,  on  Thursday  at  noon  I  clasped 
her  in  my  arms.  Oh !  you  have  learned  from  my  letters 
all  my  natural  anguish,  than  which  death  would  perhaps 
have  been  less  cruel;  paint  now,  if  you  can,  my  joy!  I 
needed  to  throw  myself  a  few  moments  afterwards  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus,  who  in  His  extreme  goodness  wished 
to  give  back  to  me,  as  to  Abraham,  the  child  I  had 
offered  in  sacrifice.  There  abundant  tears  relieved  my 
heart.  I  poured  it  out  into  the  Heart  of  Hini  who  in 


LETTER  TO  MOTHER  THEODORE 

return  solaces  with  such  tenderness  the  souls  He  pleases 
to  console.  For  several  hours  I  could  not  look  at  my 
dear  daughter  without  emotion.  I  could  hardly  believe 
this  was  the  child  I  had  thought  to  have  lost  irreparably 
(for  I  do  not  know  whether,  had  she  gone  to  America, 
I  would  have  wished  to  see  her  again).  O  my  dear 
Sister  Theodore,  if  you  love  me  truly,  me  and  mine,  you 
will  rejoice  in  our  happiness;  and,  in  rejoicing,  you  will 
be  satisfied  not  to  have  Irma  with  you,  and  especially 
you  will  do  nothing  to  keep  up  her  desire  to  rejoin 
you.  I  feel,  now  that  I  have  seen  her  and  have  had  the 
happiness  of  spending  more  than  three  days  with  her, 
how  painful  a  new  sacrifice  would  be;  and  I  hope  that 
God  who  gave  her  back  to  me,  without  our  having  done 
anything  to  keep  her,  will  leave  her  with  me  in  France, 
in  Brest,  where  He  seems  to  have  sent  her  to  be  the 
Angel  Guardian  of  her  brothers.  Besides,  her  good 
father's  health  continues  so  poor  that  I  hope  his  heart 
will  not  be  subjected  to  so  hard  a  trial.  I  do  Hot  know 
whether  he  could  endure  it. 

Irma  saw  two  of  her  brothers  also  at  Rennes,  Al- 
phonse,  who  was  at  the  seminary,  and  Eugene,  her 
former  pupil,  who  was  continuing  his  studies  at  the 
college.  After  several  happy  days  spent  at  the  convent 
of  the  Sisters  of  Providence,  Madame  le  Fer  and  her 
two  daughters  returned  to  Saint  Servan.  On  the  day 
of  their  departure  Irma  took  the  stage  for  Brest,  travel- 
ing alone  for  the  first  time.  After  reaching  that  city 
she  recounted  the  incidents  of  the  journey  in  the  letters 
that  follow. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Brest,  January,  1841.     Friday. 

Here  I  am  at  Brest,  my  dear  mother,  where  I  arrived 
Tuesday  evening  safe  and  sound.  I  really  believe  that 
the  angels  watch  over  the  Sisters  of  Providence,  or  I 
should  have  broken  my  limbs  two  or  three  times  at 


122  AT  BREST 

least.  Our  stage  was  on  the  point  of  upsetting  at 
Montauban.  It  was  at  a  turn  in  the  street  and  I  could 
see  what  was  going  to  happen.  Suddenly  the  horses 
slipped,  the  driver  was  thrown  from  his  seat  to  the 
ground,  and  the  glass  was  shivered  by  the  shock.  I 
should  certainly  had  been  crushed  in  the  corner  I  occu- 
pied, had  not  God  kept  back  the  heavy  mass,  and  people 
arrived  in  time  to  prevent  its  fall.  We  were  delayed 
there  an  hour  while  the  axle  was  being  repaired. 

In  the  coach  was  a  young  man  who  treated  his  wife  as 
if  she  were  a  religious.  In  the  middle  of  the  night  he 
told  her  for  the  first  time  that  he  had  enlisted  for  three 
years  in  the  army.  Poor  woman!  thinking  she  was 
making  a  pleasure  trip,  and  then  finding  she  was  being 
taken  two  hundred  leagues  from  her  own  town,  and 
from  her  mother,  to  live  in  a  garrison  at  Paimpol! 
While  listening  to  her  lamentations,  and  seeing  her  so 
resigned  despite  her  sorrow,  I  could  not  help  thanking 
God  for  the  part  He  had  conferred  on  me.  Still,  I 
cannot  complain  of  my  companions,  for  the  young  man 
was  even  careful  enough  to  give  me  warning  not  to  be 
alarmed  when  he  struck  a  match  to  light  his  pipe.  The 
only  troublesome  time  I  had  was  the  moment  of  my  de- 
parture. I  supposed  that  you  had  engaged  a  place  for 
me  in  the  coach,  and  I  was  telling  my  companions  I 
had  the  first  seat.  A  tall  English  captain  added  very 
politely,  "My  lady,  if  the  place  is  mine  I  shall  give  it 
to  you."  Quickly  I  took  a  seat  in  the  front  of  the  coach. 
Two  minutes  later  I  saw  my  tall  Englishman  and  the 
conductor  coming  to  dislodge  some  one.  When  the 
latter  saw  me,  he  said:  "Madam,  your  place  is  on  the 
inside ;  come  down."  As  I  had  seen  officers  and  men  of 
all  sorts  enter  the  inside,  my  heart  throbbed  and  tears 
came  to  my  eyes  as  I  explained  that  I  had  made  a  mis- 
take. "Mon  dame,  vous  pas  pleurer"  said  the  chari- 
table Englishman  in  broken  French;  and  once  more  he 
gave  me  his  place  and  went  to  where  I  should  have  been 
obliged  to  go. 

I  was  well  during  the  thirty-six  hours  of  my  journey, 


AT  BREST  123 

and  reached  Brest  Tuesday  evening  during  the  time  of 
the  profound  silence.1  I  can  use  convent  expressions 
with  you  now.2  Good  Sister  Saint  Ange  and  all  the 
rest  received  me  very  kindly.  My  head  was  a  little 
dizzy  when  I  arrived.  The  next  day  I  saw  the  excellent 
Madame  Thyrat  and  Therese.  They  were  charm- 
ing. They  read  me  a  letter  from  Charles,  who  is 
pleased  with  Cadiz  and  does  not  speak  of  returning; 
but  they  expect  Henri  soon. 

Nobody  here  knew  I  was  coming  as  Mother  Mary 
had  forgotten  to  announce  me  to  Sister  Saint  Ange. 
Though  I  was  unexpected,  the  reception  they  gave  me 
was  none  the  less  cordial. 

Brest,  March,  1841. 

I  see,  my  dear  mother,  that  one  of  my  letters  has 
been  lost.  I  regret  it,  for  it  would  have  given  all  the 
details  you  desire.  Do  not  feel  bad  on  account  of  the 
fewness  and  brevity  of  my  letters.  You  have  given  me 
entirely  to  God,  forever,  even  until  death.  This  good 
God  gave  me  to  you  for  three  days,  and  He  promises 
you  the  same  joy  again  after  a  little  while.3  We  must 
not  be  miserly  towards  Him  nor  take  back  the  gifts  we 
have  once  offered  Him,  particularly  when  they  are  so 
trifling.  Life  here  passes  with  frightful  rapidity.  We 
roll  on  toward  heaven  as  if  propelled  by  steam. 
Prayers,  Mass,  meditation,  class,  study,  repasts,  succeed 
each  other  so  closely  as  not  to  leave  any  free  time. 
Madame  Gicquel  is  like  yourself;  she  does  not  under- 
stand this,  and  therefore  claims  visits.  Madame  Thyrat 
pleases  me  better;  she  sees  the  reason  for  it  and  helps 
me  to  convince  our  dear  relative. 

I  passed  the  carnival  very  differently  from  what  you 
imagine.  I  played  several  hours  at  biribi,  at  plan,  and 
especially  at  the  incomparable  moufti,  which  met  with 

1  The  so-called  "great"  silence  observed  from  the  end  of  evening  recrea- 
tion until  after  the  morning  meditation. 

2  Having  spent  twelve  days  with  the  Sisters  at  Rennes,  Madame  le  Fer  was 
accustomed  to  say  she  had  made  a  little  novitiate  there, 

3  Madame  le  Fer  intended  to  go  soon  to  Brest 


124  AT  BREST 

the  same  success  here  as  at  Ruille.  I  was  surrounded 
by  about  a  hundred  children,  with  whom  I  have  ever 
since  been  on  the  best  of  terms. 

Could  you  send  me  a  Hosselin's  Grammar,  dear 
mamma?  I  ask  it  for  my  two  colleagues  as  well  as  for 
myself,  charity  for  the  three  of  us.  How  I  love  my  vo- 
cation, wherein  we  enjoy  all  things  in  common  1  I  very 
much  fear,  however,  that,  in  regard  to  poverty,  nature 
is  detrimental  to  virtue  in  me ;  for  you  know  my  inclina- 
tions in  this  respect,  and  they  have  only  grown  stronger. 
Yesterday,  however,  when  I  saw  a  poor  Spanish  re- 
ligious who  was  begging  the  means  to  go  to  America, 
I  wished  to  be  rich ;  he  wept  so  bitterly  that  I  wept  with 
him.  I  still  have  tears,  still  a  heart,  and  in  this  heart 
there  is  still  a  large  place  for  my  beloved  mother. 

To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

Brest,  April  15,  1841. 

To-day  is  Thursday,  and  while  Sister  Mary  Philo- 
mene  is  conducting  three-fourths  of  the  children  to  cate- 
chism, Sister  Marie  has  the  kindness  to  keep  the  rest 
together  with  her  own  pupils.  They  wish  to  have  a 
holiday ;  but  they  have  already  had  eight  days'  vacation 
on  account  of  Easter,  and  we  cannot  favor  the  pleadings 
of  their  laziness.  Nevertheless,  to  conciliate  all,  a  little 

girl  of  my  class,  Hortense  T ,  has  been  permitted 

to  tell  stories  while  the  others  work.  She  has  just  told 
them  a  story  of  the  "White  Cat,"  and  in  so  charming  a 
manner  that,  although  I  am  twenty-five  years  old  to- 
day, I  foolishly  remained  listening  to  her.  The  chil- 
dren of  Brest  are  generally  intelligent  and  of  a  loving 
disposition,  but  their  frivolity  and  love  of  pleasure  are 
without  parallel. 

For  some  days  my  ordinary  life  has  been  interrupted 
by  the  return  of  my  usual  spring  cold  and  earache. 
Though  the  latter  has  been  removed  by  the  application 
of  mustard  to  my  feet,  there  is  still  in  my  left  ear  a 
noise  like  the  roaring  of  the  sea.  .  My  health  now  is 
restored  to  its  normal  state.  I  spent  Holy  Week  with- 


AT  BREST  125 

out  going  to  church;  but  having  risen  on  Easter  Sun- 
day, I  went  to  St.  Louis's  in  the  morning  for  Mass. 
We  have  no  Mass  in  our  chapel  on  Sunday,  and  this  is 
a  little  inconvenient.  The  Lenten  preacher  treated  of 
very  lofty  subjects,  such  as  "The  Divinity  of  Christ," 
"The  Catholic  Church,"  "The  Authority  of  the  Pope," 
etc.  His  discourses  were  always  very  deep,  his  gestures 
and  voice  magnificent.  But  he  did  not  please  the  com- 
mon people.  There  was  something,  I  do  not  know 
what,  hard  and  severe  about  him.  At  times  I  seemed  to 
hear  Bossuet  preaching  his  thoughts  in  the  language  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  The  speaker  openly  attacked 
the  Fourierists,  a  sect  which  prevails  in  Brest  and  which 
is  impregnated  with  the  principles  of  Fourier.  Abbe 
Cuzon,  chaplain  of  the  college,  a  very  learned  priest 
and  somewhat  like  Abbe  Cardonnet,  has  told  us  of  these 
people.  Let  us  pray,  dear  sister,  that  the  Catholic 
faith  may  not  be  impaired  in  France.  When  we  cast 
a  glance  over  the  world,  we  realize  how  small  is  the 
number  of  the  elect. 

To  HER  SISTER  CECILE 

Brest,  May,  1841. 

Your  letter,  my  dear  little  sister,  shows  your  heart, 
always  agitated  and  undecided.  What  prevents  your 
saying  to  God,  "I  am  yours;  save  your  child"?  Oh!  if 
you  knew  the  Heart  of  Jesus,  you  would  leave  to  Him 
the  future  which  seems  so  frightful  to  you,  and  which 
in  reality  has  its  dangers.  You  know  well  there  is  no 
happiness  but  in  perfect  abandonment  of  oneself  into 
the  hands  of  God.  It  is  a  martyrdom  to  have  a  waver- 
ing and  divided  heart.  "The  bed  of  your  soul  is  too 
narrow,"  says  the  prophet,  "for  both  God  and  crea- 
tures; one  or  the  other  must  fall  out."  Would  you 
wish  it  to  be  God?  Let  us  turn  to  profit  our  natural 
disposition,  our  regrettable  yet  fortunate  sensitiveness, 
which  is  like  a  piercing  sword  when  directed  towards 
creatures,  but  when  turned  to  God  is  like  a  spring  of 
living  water  gushing  up  toward  heaven. 


126  AT  BREST 

Open  your  heart  to  our  sister  Eugenie ;  occupy  your- 
self with  the  poor ;  try  to  pay  for  a  retreat  for  those 
whom  it  might  benefit.  Be  on  your  guard  against  that 
romantic  melancholy  to  which  we  are  both  inclined. 
God,  it  is  true,  has  greatly  changed  me,  and,  to  give  you 
a  proof,  I  can  tell  you  I  feel  no  emotion  whatever  on  be- 
holding the  sea  again. 

Yesterday  I  received  a  letter  from  Ruille  which  gave 
me  the  sad  news  that  Mother  Theodore  is  past  recovery. 
Oh>  the  3d  of  February,  when  the  Sisters  wrote  to 
Ruille,  she  had  already  been  dangerously  ill  for  forty 
days.  My  beloved  Mother  Theodore!  I  grieve  over 
her  as  dead.  She  is  nearly  that  to  me,  whether  above 
or  beneath  the  ground  at  Vincennes.  I  am  glad  that 
neither  you  nor  my  parents  knew  her,  for  you  would 
feel  too  much  regret  now.  She  is  very  happy  to  have 
consummated  her  sacrifice,  and  I  am  very  happy  to 
have  desired  to  accomplish  mine. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier's  godchild,  her  youngest 
sister,  Clementine,  was  accustomed  to  open  her  heart  to 
her  in  correspondence,  as  she  had  formerly  done  in  con- 
versation. Irma  continued  to  instruct  her  and  to  re- 
spond to  her  confidence  with  all  her  former  kindness. 

May,  1841. 

Dear  little  daughter  [she  says] :  So  you  are  afraid 
of  living  to  be  very,  very  old,  and  of  loving  too  long 
that  dear  Savior  who  has  loved  you  for  more  than  a 
million  of  years!  Be  assured  you  have  not  too  many 
moments  to  give  Him.  You  will  die  soon,  be  sure  of 
it,  for  life  is  very  short.  The  younger  you  enter  the 
service  of  the  Lord  the  easier  virtue  will  become  to  you. 
You  object,  "If  I  reform  they  will  think  I  am  a  saint. 
Abbe  le  Pailleur  will  think  I  am  very  proud  if  I  have 
nothing  to  confess."  But,  my  dear  child,  you  do  not 
confess  your  sins  to  Abbe  le  Pailleur;  it  is  to  our  good 
Savior  Jesus.  Abbe  le  Pailleur  is  there  like  the  cur- 
tain of  the  confessional;  it  makes  little  difference  what 


AT  BREST  127 

he  thinks.  Besides,  if  you  examine  well,  you  will  find 
that  you  have  much  vanity,  indolence,  self-love;  little 
consideration  for  others;  some  disobedience  and  greedi- 
iness;  distractions  in  your  prayers,  idle  curiosity,  little 
lies,  etc.  Oh!  you  are  by  no  means  a  saint.  It  might 
be  thought,  perhaps,  that  since  you  are  of  the  Le  Fer 
family  you  are  better  than  others;  but  the  good  God 
knows  that  you  are  far  from  having  corresponded  with 
all  the  graces  He  has  given  you;  for,  my  child,  you 
have  received  very  special  favors,  and  you  will  have 
to  submit  to  a  very  severe  judgment. 

If  I  mistake  not,  my  dear  godchild,  you  must  have 
made  your  second  Communion  yesterday ;  ordinarily  the 
children's  retreat  at  Saint  Servan  begins  fifteen  days 
after  Easter.  I  have  been  with  you  in  spirit  and  have 
prayed  much  for  you.  All  the  good  news  of  your  last 
letter  gave  me  great  pleasure,  and  my  vanity  as  teacher 
was  suddenly  aroused;  but  I  was  still  more  pleased  to 

see  that  you  wish  to  imitate  Marie  R ,  for  I  desire 

you  to  be  happy,  and  you  will  be  so  if  you  are  good. 
Thus,  when  you  say,  "The  good  God  loves  me;  He  is 
pleased  with  what  I  have  just  done;  to  please  Him 
I  have  made  this  little  sacrifice,"  do  you  not  then  feel 
joy  in  the  depths  of  your  soul?  My  dear  child!  how 
happy  I  should  be  to  visit  you  some  evening  at  your 
bedside  as  I  used  to  do.  Then,  after  I  had  kissed  your 
nice  rosy  cheeks,  we  would  talk  once  more  of  the  joys 
of  paradise  and  of  your  First  Communion.  Do  you 
remember  that  when  I  told  you  in  heaven  we  possess 
all  we  desire,  how  you  made  heaven  according  to  your 
age  and  fancy?  You  wished  for  lambs  trimmed  with 
pink  ribbons,  for  little  girls  dressed  in  gold  and  silver 
robes,  for  heaps  of  toasted  almonds  and  sugar-plums; 
and  after  this  list  my  little  godchild  smiled  at  me  and 
said,  "Can  it  be  possible,  Irma,  that  all  these  things  will 
belong  to  me?"  "Yes,  my  child,  if  you  desire  them  in 
paradise;  for  Saint  Paul  says  all  our  wishes  shall  be 
gratified."  But  when  reason  came  to  you,  the  reality 
of  divine  beauties  appeared  to  you.  Another  series 


128  AT  BREST 

of  delights  offered  itself.  You  now  see  a  Divine  Lamb 
immolated  to  procure  eternal  glory  for  you;  bands  of 
virgins  with  crowns  more  brilliant  than  precious  stones, 
lilies  of  dazzling  whiteness  in  their  hands,  and  robes  of 
the  hues  of  purple  or  of  snow.  You  think  of  the  Sacred 
Bread  with  which  the  angels  are  nourished  and  you 
say,  "Can  it  be  possible,  Irma,  that  I  shall  one  day 
share  this  happiness?"  I  am  not  there  to  answer  you, 
but  at  the  hour  when  you  retire  I  say  to  Jesus  and 
Mary,  Visit  my  little  Clementine  for  me;  she  is  our 
child,  she  belongs  to  us  three,  and  you  love  her  even 
more  than  I  do.  .  .  .  But,  dear  and  too-much-loved 
child,  I  believe  God  alone  can  surpass  me  in  affection 
for  you. 

To  HER  SISTER  ELVIRE 

Brest,  June,  1841. 

It  seems  a  long  time  since  I  saw  you.  Sometimes 
I  find  myself  with  you  and  Clementine  in  the  little 
arbor  of  the  garden  where  we  sowed  seeds.  Have  they 
produced  any  fruit,  or  at  least  a  few  blossoms?  Cour- 
age, dear;  life  is  shorter  than  you  think.  Elvire,  I 
entreat  you  not  to  neglect  your  meditations.  On  this 
subject  I  must  tell  you  a  dream  I  had  the  other  night. 
There  was  no  land  nor  sea;  it  was  the  last  day  of  the 
world;  the  general  judgment  was  to  take  place  in  a 
quarter  of  an  hour.  We  were  in  a  great  fright,  as  you 
can  well  imagine.  I  threw  myself  at  the  feet  of  the 
Eternal  Father  and  begged  him  to  grant  me  a  few  min- 
utes of  conversation  with  His  Son.  I  wanted  to  plead 
for  my  brothers,  for  you,  for  all  our  family.  I  was 
afraid  we  should  have  an  unfavorable  judgment,  and  I 
knew  that  when  our  Lord  would  have  pronounced  sen- 
tence there  would  be  no  chance  of  arguing  on  our  side. 
But,  my  dear  Elvire,  this  short  quarter  of  an  hour  that 
I  so  earnestly  desired  was  unmercifully  refused.  There 
were  other  things  to  attend  to  besides  listening  to  me. 
The  next  morning  I  was  still  deaf  from  the  noise  made 
by  the  whole  world  in  the  valley  of  Josaphat! 


AT  BREST  129 

Ah!  the  quarter  of  an  hour  then  so  much  desired  is 
given  to  us  every  day  in  meditation.  Let  us  now  say 
to  Jesus  all  we  have  to  tell  Him,  for  on  the  day  of  judg- 
ment He  will  not  have  time  to  listen  to  us.  Attach 
yourself  to  Him.  Is  it  because  while  on  our  altars  He 
is  destitute  of  glory  and  power  that  we  have  no  fear  of 
displeasing  Him?  He  is  merciful  now,  but  He  will  be 
terrible  in  His  anger.  Give  yourself,  then,  generously 
to  Him.  I  recommend  Clementine  to  you.  Oh !  some- 
times speak  together  of  that  little  arbor  in  the  garden, 
and  recall  the  promises  l  you  made  there.  Give  my  love 
to  your  friends  Delamarre,  Magon,  and  Ryan. 

Writing  again  to  the  same  sister,  she  says : 

You  ask,  "Why  learn?  For  whom  study?"  You 
think  I  am  going  to  say,  For  yourself,  my  dear  Elvire. 
But,  no.  Why  should  I  learn?  For  whom?  For  a 
long  time  I  knew  not  for  whom,  and  often  I  said  to 
God,  "Of  what  use  will  all  this  be  to  me?"  O  my  dear 
Elvire!  we  must  study  for  God.  Should  He  not  call 
you  to  the  religious  life,  you  will  be  an  honor  to  religion 
in  the  world.  And  how  do  you  know  that  you  will  have 
no  children,  nephews,  or  nieces  to  instruct?  Would 
you  be  useless  to  society?  Oh,  no;  a  life  wrapped  up  in 
one's  self  would  be  too  petty  and  contemptible.  Study, 
then,  my  dear  child,  study  for  God.  He  is  well  worth 
the  trouble. 

I  trust  all  your  wrong  ideas  are  gone,  and  that  you 
are  grateful  for  being  chosen  a  member  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Sodality.  Think  how  I  used  to  be:  when  I  was 
sent  to  confession  in  spite  of  myself,  or  when  I  was 
obliged  to  make  retreats,  I  uttered  cries  like  a  dog 
dragged  to  the  sea  to  be  drowned.  You  have  not  an 
aversion  to  being  a  sodalist ;  you  are  merely  indifferent. 
Now,  if  you  prepare  yourself  well,  you  will  be  more 
pleasing  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  than  if  you  had  felt 
naturally  inclined  to  become  one.  I  hope  by  the  time 
you  receive  this  you  will  have  performed  that  great 

i  To  observe  a  little  rule  of  life  which  Irma  had  composed  for  them. 


ISO  TEACHER  AT  BREST 

action.  Sunday  afternoon  I  shall  pray  for  you.  While 
reading  your  letter,  poor  little  Elvire,  I  thought  it  was 
myself  on  one  of  those  wretched  days  when  we  would 
willingly  throw  our  soul  out  of  the  window,  so  little  do 
we  care  for  it.  But  if  you  care  so  little  for  your  own, 
I  beg  and  entreat  you  to  have  pity  on  those  of  others 
by  being  sure  to  lend  them  the  books  I  left  in  your 
care.  I  feel  certain  I  owe  my  beautiful  vocation  to  the 
interest  I  took  in  the  souls  that  I  came  across  on  the 
journey  of  life.  Do  the  same  and  have  confidence. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Brest,  June  5,  1841. 

So  you  repent  of  your  generous  proposition,  my  dear- 
est mother.  I  must  acknowledge  that  I  myself  have 
found  the  time  very  long  since  I  last  wrote  to  you.  In 
the  future  I  shall  do  as  you  wish  in  regard  to  our  cor- 
respondence. Your  letters  always  afford  me  great 
pleasure,  and  I  unite  with  you  in  blessing  the  Providence 
of  God  which  watches  so  tenderly  over  our  family. 
Certainly  it  will  never  abandon  us  if  we  are  grateful. 
Poor  Charles !  how  frightened  I  have  been  at  the  thought 
of  the  dangers  to  which  he  was  exposed.  Let  us  pray 
much  for  him,  for  dangers  are  to  be  feared  even  in  the 
harbor.  Henri  does  not  return;  God  knows  what  is 
best  for  him. 

Of  all  virtues  I  believe  what  pleases  God  the  most 
and  is  most  proper  for  us  is  a  perfect  abandonment  of 
ourselves  into  His  hands.  When  I  consider  my  life, 
especially  the  last  two  years  of  it,  I  see  on  the  part  of 
God  so  many  proofs  of  love,  so  touching  a  care  for  me, 
that  to  distrust  Him  would  be  the  greatest  ingratitude. 
Since  I  left  our  dear  Providence  Convent  where  I  was 
so  sincerely  loved,  since  I  embraced  a  uniform  life  at 
Brest,  a  regulated  life  so  little  in  accordance  with  my 
vagabond  tastes,  God  has  redoubled  His  kindness  to 
me,  my  dear  mother.  I  tell  you  this  so  that  you  may 
thank  Him  once  more. 

In  answer  to  your  question  as  to  our  method  of  teach- 


FIRST  COMMUNION  CLASS  131 

ing,  I  must  say  that  I  find  it  generally  good,  even  ex- 
cellent for  orthography,  writing,  and  mathematics.  It 
fatigues  neither  the  pupils  nor  the  teachers ;  no  exercise 
lasts  longer  than  half  an  hour,  except  needlework,  which 
is  in  great  favor  here,  and  for  which  you  know  my  in- 
capacity. All  sorts  of  things  are  sold;  we  have  a  real 
store,  and,  without  exaggeration,  the  same  objects  may 
be  found  here  as  at  Monsieur  Duval's.1  Imagine  how 
busy  we  are.  You  asked,  too,  whether  I  am  pleased  with 
my  confessor.  I  answer,  Yes.  Were  I  to  change  con- 
fessors a  hundred  times  I  should  always  be  satisfied, 
provided  they  gave  me  absolution  for  my  sins  and  did 
not  keep  me  too  long.  This  the  cure  of  Brest  does  for 
me,  and  it  is  all  I  need.  Besides,  we  are  very  happy 
in  not  having  the  trouble  of  choosing  our  confessors,  as 
God  chooses  for  us. 

First  Communion  and  Confirmation  gave  us  a  great 
deal  of  work.  There  were  more  than  two  hundred 
children  from  our  classes  attending  the  retreat.  The 
ceremony  was  beautiful.  The  bishop  confirmed  1218 
persons.  I  had  never  before  seen  so  many  children  in 
white  nor  so  many  lighted  tapers;  the  communicants 
and  those  to  be  confirmed  carried  candles,  and  at  each 
important  exercise  of  the  last  two  days  the  candles  were 
all  lighted;  the  effect  was  very  beautiful.  Bishop  Le- 
graverend  was  received  in  the  city  of  Brest  with  much 
joy;  but  the  bishop's  qualities  make  the  people  regret 
having  lost  him  as  cure.  August  Gicquel  made  his 
First  Communion.  Therese  brought  him  to  see  me; 
she  seemed  very  happy  with  all  her  lovely  children. 
This  morning,  June  5,  I  have  been  thinking  much  of 
Alphonse.  Had  Monseigneur  Saint  Marc  been  conse- 
crated, our  dear  brother  would  have  had  at  last  the 
happiness  of  taking  that  grand  step,2  so  holy,  so  glori- 
ous, so  long  desired.  Dear  Alphonse!  What  a  grace 
God  has  granted  him.  The  charming  Madame  Thyrat s 
often  comes  to  see  me.  Zoe  comes  also.  They  say  she 

1  A  bookseller  of  Saint  Servan. 

2  She  speaks  of  his  ordination. 

s  Madame  Albert  Gicquel  des  Touches. 


132  DUTIES  AND  MOTIVES 

is  gifted  with  serious  and  beautiful  qualities,  but  our 
intimacy  has  not  increased  much.  I  desire  no  friends 
outside  of  my  community.  I  have  twelve  Sisters,  and 
in  them  I  find  goodness,  sympathy,  the  kindest  atten- 
tion, and,  above  all,  cordial  charity. 

Having  received  no  news  of  Mother  Theodore's  death, 
I  have  some  rays  of  hope.  This  dearly  beloved  Mother 
would  certainly  be  happier  in  heaven;  but  if  she  re- 
mains here  below  her  robe  will  be  more  richly  embroid- 
ered, her  crown  adorned  with  more  beautiful  jewels, 
for  she  aspires  only  to  make  Jesus  known  and  loved. 


To  HER  SISTEE  CECILE 

Brest,  1841. 

Dead  though  I  am  supposed  to  be,  here  I  come  again 
to  encourage  you  to  persevere  in  your  resolutions.  I 
have  asked  Sister  Dosithie's  permission  to  do  it,  for  she 
is  very  much  interested  in  your  soul;  and  who  would 
not  love  a  soul  for  which  God  has  done  so  much? 

First  of  all,  entire  obedience  to  mamma  in  everything 
relating  to  dress.  This  will  be  very  pleasing  to  God. 
Tell  Him  that  you  wish  to  be  beautiful  only  in  His 
eyes ;  that  you  would  be  ashamed  to  be  elegantly  dressed 
since  Mary,  our  model,  so  loved  simplicity;  that  you 
do  not  wish  fine  shoes  when,  out  of  love  for  you,  your 
Savior  had  great  nails  driven  into  His  feet;  that  you 
desire  to  be  economical  and  orderly.  To  speak  of  order 
ill  becomes  me  who  have  so  little  of  it;  but  I  wish  to 
correct  myself.  To  sweep  a  room,  or  to  pick  up  crumbs 
of  bread,  even  to  mend  old  stockings,  is  more  pleasing 
to  God,  if  done  for  love  of  Him,  than  to  go  to  Vin- 
cennes  with  a  less  degree  of  love.  Our  perfection  con- 
sists in  doing  well  whatever  we  do,  if  it  be  only  to  shell 
peas  or  beans,  or  feed  the  little  ducks.  Let  there  be 
no  hurry  to  go  from  one  thing  to  another.  You  have 
really  nothing  to  do  at  home  but  what  God  wishes,  and 
He  communicates  His  orders  to  you  through  mamma. 
In  this  is  true  perfection;  it  is  said  in  one  line,  but  it  is 


A  RULE  OF  LIFE  133 

not  learned  in  one  day.  Through  meditation  and 
prayer  you  will  understand  it. 

I  wish  to  say  something  also  in  regard  to  those  ro- 
mances which  are  read  and  sung.  If  they  are  now  what 
they  were  in  my  time,  they  are  very  insipid,  very  pas- 
sionate. They  associate  angels  with  cupids,  the  Blessed 
Virgin's  name  with  profane  love — Mary  who  is  so  pure ! 
Oh !  it  seems  to  me  she  is  there  like  the  statue  of  Fenelon 
near  that  of  Voltaire  in  the  Pantheon — she  must  feel 
very  much  out  of  place.  I  beg  you  to  sacrifice  to  Jesus 
and  Mary  those  songs  half  sacred,  half  profane,  and 
whose  melancholy  airs  would  have  a  dangerous  charm 
for  you.  O  Cecile !  you  wish  to  hear  the  ravishing  con- 
certs of  angels,  would  you  not  have  the  courage  to  re- 
nounce those  strains  as  transient  as  the  rustling  of  a 
bird's  wing?  But,  fearing  you  may  be  alarmed,  I  pro- 
pose a  rule  of  conduct.  When  a  song  is  given  to  you, 
take  it  to  mamma  without  showing  any  desire  for  her 
approval  of  it,  and  silently  await  her  decision.  You 
should  not  say  to  yourself,  So-and-so  sings  it,  for  that 
would  be  the  same  as  saying,  So-and-so  poisons  herself 
a  little  every  day;  I  may  do  the  same. 

No  doubt  you  think  me  severe;  but  you  see  since  I 
have  breathed  a  purer  air,  since  I  have  left  the  world, 
I  have  found  so  much  peace  that  I  desire  to  make  known 
to  you  the  means  of  tasting  its  fruits.  It  is  necessary, 
my  dear  child,  to  abstain  from  reading  works  that  are 
too  tender  or  too  exalted,  even  on  religious  subjects. 
You  wish  to  read  a  little  of  everything  for  several  rea- 
sons: first,  for  pleasure,  when  the  books  are  entertain- 
ing; secondly,  for  curiosity,  when  they  are  new;  thirdly, 
(and  I  am  sure  you  will  laugh  when  I  say  it)  you  read 
because  others  do  so.  A  book  is  lent  you  and  you  are 
afraid  to  refuse  it;  you  fear  to  disoblige;  and  besides, 
you  wish  to  pass  your  small  judgment  on  the  work.  O 
human  weakness!  This  is  how  I  once  was  and  how  I 
still  should  be,  if  God  had  not  enlightened  me. 

In  your  spiritual  reading  you  read  and  read,  think- 
ing to  find  on  the  fourth  page  what  is  necessary,  al- 


134.  A  RULE  OF  LIFE 

though  you  had  already  found  it  on  the  first;  but,  in- 
stead of  reflecting  you  continue  to  read  on,  especially 
if  the  book  is  well  written.  Read  little,  my  dear  Cecile, 
and  read  slowly.  I  advise  you  to  become  acquainted 
with  Bourdaloue,  Saint  Francis  de  Sales,  or  some  good 
old  writers;  but  moderately,  except  when  there  is  a 
question  of  increasing  your  knowledge  of  religion,  for 
we  can  never  know  too  much  to  teach  catechism. 

As  to  your  confessions,  have  a  true  desire  to  correct 
yourself,  a  great  faith  in  the  accusation.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  be  particular  over  a  multitude  of  little  consulta- 
tions that  we  often  make  more  to  satisfy  ourselves  than 
to  seek  God.  Say  but  little;  simply  tell  what  is  neces- 
sary, and  never  hold  useless  conversations.  Say  only 
what  you  would  say  to  our  Lord  if  you  were  making 
your  confession  to  Him  five  minutes  before  your  death. 

As  for  your  Communions,  never  miss  one  through 
your  own  fault;  abandon  yourself  completely  to  the 
holy  will  of  God ;  have  great  respect  for  the  presence  of 
Our  Lord  Jesus,  and  keep  yourself  humble  before  Him. 
We  never  sin  by  too  great  respect,  provided  we  have 
confidence. 

In  regard  to  your  meditations,  remember  to  prepare 
them  to  some  extent  the  evening  before.  Never  make 
them  vaguely,  and  always  take  a  resolution  which  re- 
lates to  your  particular  examen.  Never  begin  your 
meditation  without  having  first  asked  God  Himself  to 
teach  you  how  to  reflect  and  pray.  Always  take  Him 
for  your  teacher.  O  my  dear  child,  He  alone  is  truly 
capable  and  good. 

From  Irma's  letters  dated  at  Brest  it  is  evident  that 
the  good  superior,  Sister  Saint  Ange,  welcomed  her  with 
great  kindness,  and  that  her  companions  manifested  an 
affectionate  and  tender  interest  in  her.  The  pupils  en- 
trusted to  her  were  not  in  any  way  a  source  of  anxiety, 
yet  the  six  months  she  spent  in  Brest  was  one  of  the 
most  painful  epochs  of  her  life. 


LONGINGS  FOR  THE  MISSIONS  135 

Her  two  brothers,  Charles  and  Henri,  prolonged  their 
travels  at  sea.  To  God  only  could  she  speak  of  their 
souls.  Her  first  superiors,  who  had  guided  her  with 
a  particular  care,  were  far  from  her;  the  zeal  which  con- 
sumed her  was  limited  to  her  department  of  daily  teach- 
ing; lastly,  it  was  at  Brest  that  she  learned  that  Mother 
Theodore's  health  was  suff ering  from  the  terrible  winter 
in  Indiana,  and  that  a  severe  illness  had  reduced  her  to 
the  last  extremity. 

At  that  period  it  required  a  very  long  time  for  a  letter 
to  reach  Europe,  and  Irma  remained  for  more  than  a 
month  without  knowing  whether  the  one  she  loved  so 
much  was  living  or  dead.  The  news  of  this  dear  su- 
perior's recovery  came  at  last  as  a  great  relief.  The 
thought  of  all  that  Mother  Theodore  could  do  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls  gave  Irma  par- 
ticular joy,  since  she  could  no  longer  cherish  any  hope  of 
joining  her.  Mother  Mary  in  sending  Irma  to  Brest 
seemed  to  have  settled  the  question  of  America  finally 
and  negatively.  Still,  Irma  felt  reviving  in  her  heart 
those  ardent  desires  which  impelled  her  toward  the  for- 
eign missions,  and  the  incessant  conflict  between  her 
aspirations  and  her  religious  submission  caused  her  inex- 
pressible suffering  and  exhausted  her  strength. 

In  the  meantime  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere,  who  had 
sent  Irma  to  Mother  Mary  only  to  be  prepared  for 
America,  was  asking  for  her  in  the  interests  of  his  mis- 
sion. Mother  Theodore  had  been  allowed  to  hope  that 
she  would  join  her  the  next  year,  and  she  now  asked  as 
a  favor  to  have  Irma  sent  to  Vincennes.  Abbe  Cardon- 
net  supported  the  entreaties  of  both  with  the  Superior 
General,  who  informed  Monsieur  and  Madame  le  Fer 
of  the  earnest  demands  of  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere. 
While  not  altogether  yielding,  Mother  Mary  wrote  to 


136  BISHOP  BOUVIER 

Irma  that  she  left  her  free  to  decide  for  herself  between 
France  and  America. 

It  was  not  to  keep  her  liberty,  however,  that  Irma 
had  embraced  a  religious  life,  but  to  make  an  entire 
sacrifice  of  it  to  God.  Being  thus  suddenly  deprived  of 
the  wise  direction  of  the  Mother  General,  she  addressed 
herself  to  the  ecclesiastical  superior  of  her  community, 
Monseigneur  Bouvier,  Bishop  of  Le  Mans,  who  re- 
sponded to  her  letter  as  follows: 

Knowing  you  by  reputation  only,  my  dear  daughter, 
what  counsel  can  I  give  you?  Considering  merely  your 
personal  sanctification,  I  should  think  it  better  and  safer 
for  you  to  remain  where  you  are.  The  Bishop  of  Vin- 
cennes  and  Mother  Theodore  eagerly  ask  for  you. 
Abbe  Cardonnet  thinks  it  unfair  to  prevent  you  from 
going,  and  he  seems  to  disapprove  of  the  Superior 
General  of  the  Sisters  of  Ruille.  The  good  superior, 
worried  by  so  many  remarks  and  accusations,  leaves  it 
to  your  choice.  I  understand  your  embarrassment,  and 
I  feel  the  same  myself,  as  I  have  not  the  necessary  in- 
formation on  the  matter  to  pass  an  enlightened  judg- 
ment. There  is  no  time  for  me  to  confer  with  the 
Mother  Superior  of  Ruille  and  her  Sister  Assistants,  but 
I  am  inclined  to  tell  you  to  go.  At  the  same  time, 
purify  your  intentions  well,  strengthen  yourself  in 
your  resolutions,  seek  God  only,  and  ask  Him  unceas- 
ingly for  grace  to  grow  more  and  more  in  His  love. 
This  is  all  I  can  say  to  you.  I  have  nothing  more  at 
heart  than  to  see  you  a  saint,  and  to  help  Bishop  de  la 
Hailandiere  in  all  he  desires  to  do.  Receive,  my  dear 
daughter,  the  assurance  of  my  paternal  affection. 

Bishop  Bouvier  was  inclined  to  tell  her  to  go,  but  that 
was  no  decision.  Irma  felt  so  strongly  drawn  towards 
America  that  the  very  ardor  of  her  desire  withheld  her. 
She  feared  to  follow  her  own  inclination,  and  thus  fail 
to  seek  merely  the  holy  will  of  God,  which  alone  she  de- 


BISHOP  BOUVIER  137 

sired  to  fulfill.  After  a  night  spent  in  supplication  and 
prayer,  and  the  anguish  of  indecision,  she  felt  she  could 
no  longer  endure  the  uncertainty,  and  asked  permission 
of  Sister  Saint  Ange  to  go  to  Le  Mans,  in  order  to  place 
her  destiny  in  the  hands  of  the  ecclesiastical  superior 
and  to  receive  from  him  the  decision  which  Mother  Mary 
had  refused  to  give.  Sister  Saint  Ange  approved  of  the 
step;  and,  besides,  she  permitted  Irma,  in  anticipation 
of  her  departure,  to  spend  ten  days  with  her  family  be- 
fore going  to  Le  Mans. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IRMA  AT   SAINT   SEEVAN,   EENNES,   LE  MANS,   RUILLE — 
DEPARTURE  FOR  AMERICA 

IRMA'S  letter  announcing  her  coming  was  received 
at  Saint  Servan  the  same  day  that  she  herself 
arrived.  Her  parents'  joy  at  welcoming  her  was 
mingled  with  anxiety,  however,  for  Mother  Mary  in 
telling  them  that  Monseigneur  de  la  Hailandiere  eagerly 
wished  for  Irma,  had  assured  them  that  under  no  circum- 
stance would  she  go  to  America  without  returning  home 
to  bid  them  a  last  adieu.  Her  arrival  in  the  family, 
which  at  any  other  time  would  have  been  a  source  of 
great  joy,  seemed  now  but  the  announcement  of  a  new 
sacrifice.  Irma  did  not  conceal  the  object  of  her 
journey  to  Le  Mans;  as  nothing  was  decided,  however, 
her  parents,  seeing  their  daughter  so  fragile  and  delicate, 
began  to  cherish  the  hope  that  her  health,  which  had 
hitherto  caused  them  so  much  anxiety,  would  now  be  the 
happy  means  of  keeping  her  in  France. 

As  for  Irma,  from  the  moment  that  she  had  resolved 
to  accept  the  decision  of  Monseigneur  Bouvier  as  the 
expression  of  God's  holy  will  for  her,  all  her  former 
calm  and  cheerfulness  returned'.  Nothing  henceforth 
could  trouble  the  peace  of  her  soul.  She  devoted  herself 
completely  to  her  family,  forgetting  herself  in  order  to 
console,  counsel,  and  encourage  her  parents  and  sisters, 
showing  herself  happy  to  see  them  again,  and  giving  no 
sign  of  sadness  at  the  coming  separation.  With  the 

138 


VISIT  TO  BISHOP  BOUVIER  139 

greatest  satisfaction  she  welcomed  her  dear  poor,  who 
hastened  to  express  their  affection  and  gratitude. 

Pleasant  days  pass  quickly,  and  scarcely  had  her 
friends  begun  to  enjoy  her  presence  when  she  had  to 
leave  them.  Madame  le  Fer  went  with  her  to  Rennes 
— to  Rennes,  where  she  had  been  so  happy  when  she 
hoped  to  keep  her  daughter  in  France.  There,  in  the 
little  chapel  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence  where  she  had 
thanked  God  for  this  favor,  she  came  weeping  to-day, 
opening  her  heart  to  the  Heart  of  Jesus  and  looking 
to  Him  for  the  strength  to  accomplish  this  double  sacri- 
fice ;  for  surely  a  mother  gives  her  child  twice  when  she 
offers  her  to  the  foreign  missions.  Madame  le  Fer  re- 
turned home,  waiting  with  painful  anxiety  for  the  de- 
cision of  the  venerable  prelate.  After  some  days  of 
anguish  she  received  the  following  letter : 

Ruille-sur-Loir,  July  11,  1841. 

My  dear  Father  and  Mother:  At  last  I  am  to  go  to 
Vincennes.  I  have  received  a  positive  and  definitive 
answer  from  the  Bishop  of  Le  Mans.  He  read  father's 
letter  and  gave  me  one  for  the  Superior  General,  who 
sees  clearly  the  divine  will  in  the  result  of  all  these  cir- 
cumstances. He  approves  of  my  conduct,  and  God 
gives  me  the  great  comfort  of  now  following  only  His 
will  as  manifested  by  my  superiors.  I  am  truly  very 
happy.  For  a  long  time  you  have  known  the  aspira- 
tions of  my  soul  regarding  my  beautiful  vocation.  To- 
gether let  us  thank  God  for  His  mercy.  My  beloved 
sisters,  unite  your  gratitude  with  mine. 

I  arrived  at  Laval  at  two  o'clock  and  thought  I  was 
at  Fougeres.  After  a  rather  annoying  delay,  a  good 
officer  took  charge  of  my  parcels  and  myself,  and  con- 
ducted me  to  the  Tete  Noire,  where  I  spent  the  night 
very  quietly.  In  the  afternoon  I  went  to  see  the  Fathers 
at  Saint  Michael's,  but  our  good  friend  Father  Besnoin 
was  not  there.  The  superior  was  very  fatherly  and  said 


140  REALIZATION  OF  HOPES 

that  he  would  write  to  him,  so  that  the  good  Father 
would  celebrate  the  Holy  Sacrifice  for  our  intentions. 

The  next  day — Thursday — at  three  o'clock  I  arrived 
at  .Le  Mans,  and  at  four  I  was  at  the  bishop's  residence. 
I  spoke  to  Monseigneur  Bouvier  as  frankly  as  if  I  had 
to  die  twenty  minutes  after.  I  told  him  everything, 
from  the  cup  of  coffee,  obligatory  every  morning,  to  the 
cold  feet.  I  had  made  a  little  list  of  my  impediments ; 
so  be  tranquil.  The  good  bishop  made  me  remain  at 
Le  Mans  a  day  to  rest,  and  yesterday,  the  10th,  I 
traveled  to  Ruille  with  the  new  chaplain,  whose  com- 
pany made  the  journey  very  pleasant. 

I  cannot  tell  you  exactly  when  Abbe  Moreau's 
Brothers  will  leave  Havre  for  New  York.  Be  kind 
enough  to  write  to  Rennes,  which  is  the  center  of  de- 
liberation. It  is  impossible  for  them  to  go  before  the 
24th  instant.  They  will  inform  me  of  the  date  from  Le 
Mans.  Our  good  Mother  is  busy  preparing  everything 
for  me.  She  is  as  disinterested  as  ever,  and  does  not 
wish  you  to  send  me  any  money.  The  letter  you  for- 
warded to  me  was  from  this  dear  superior,  who  told  me 
she  highly  approved  of  my  conduct  and  of  my  stay  in  Le 
Mans.  I  spent  two  very  pleasant  days  with  the  two 
Carmelites,  Chatellier.  We  talked  a  long  time  of  you 
all  and  of  their  family. 

"I  thought,"  said  Madame  le  Fer,  "that  I  had  pre- 
pared my  heart  for  this  cruel  separation,  and  yet  it  was 
with  inexpressible  sorrow  that  I  learned  the  certainty  of 
my  daughter's  approaching  departure.  Then,  O  my 
God!  taking  pity  on  my  weakness,  you  inspired  her  to 
write  this  second  letter,  which  was  received  three  days 
after  the  first." 

Ruille,  July  14,  1841. 
My  dearest  Mother: 

God  is  going  to  grant  me  the  greatest  grace  He  can 
bestow,  that  of  taking  my  vows  before  starting  for 
America.  Next  Sunday,  at  eight  o'clock  Mass,  I  shall 


RELIGIOUS  PROFESSION  141 

give  myself  irrevocably  to  God.  O  my  father,  my  good 
mother,  my  sisters,  all  who  love  me,  rejoice  with  mel  I 
am  very  happy.  I  am  weeping,  but  it  is  for  joy. 
Mother  Mary  went  away  this  morning.  She  inquired 
about  you  all.  Before  leaving  she  gave  me  permission 
to  take  my  vows  on  Sunday.  I  did  not  ask  the 
favor,  but  God  who  desires  to  possess  me  inspired  my 
superiors  with  this  thought,  the  accomplishment  of  which 
makes  me  so  happy.1  I  know  nothing  definite  as  to  the 
time  of  my  departure.  Mother  Mary  will  try  to  put  me 
under  the  protection  of  a  priest  of  Le  Mans,  who  will 
have  my  purse,  pay  for  me  and  take  charge  of  every- 
thing. Please  send  me  the  address  of  the  Ladies  of 
Saint  Thomas.  I  shall  have  to  stay  with  them,  and  you 
may  address  your  letters  to  me  there. 

Tell  dear  grandmamma  of  my  great  happiness,  also 
my  uncle,  aunts,  cousins,  my  good  friends  Demolon,  in 
fact,  all  our  neighbors  and  acquaintances  who  are  in- 
terested in  me.  We  must  now  submit  peacefully  to  all 
that  God  has  in  store  for  us.  So  great  a  grace  will  re- 
quire great  sacrifices.  How  good  it  is  to  abandon  our- 
selves to  God's  love !  Pray  much  for  me  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin.  Thank  Our  Lord  for  His  incomprehensible 
love  for  me.  Offer  me  anew,  and  promise  that  you  will 
never  repent  of  having  given  me  to  so  good  a  Master. 
Say  to  Him  that  you  abandon  all  your  claims  to  me; 
that  you  confide  to  Him  your  child.  He  will  return 
her  to  you  one  day,  beautiful,  resplendent  with  glory, 
for  He  will  be  our  joy  and  our  crown.  The  termina- 
tion, then,  of  my  waverings,  and  of  the  anxieties  I  en- 
dured at  Brest,  is  to  take  my  vows  two  years  sooner  than 
if  I  should  remain  in  France.  How  good  God  is !  My 
Vows  and  Vincennes!  Oh!  it  is  too  much  for  a  mis- 
erable creature  like  me.  Misericordias  Domini  in 
aeternum  cantabo. — Yes,  the  mercies  of  the  Lord  I  will 
sing  forever. 

i  Some  years  later  Mother  Mary  said  to  Sister  Mary  Joseph  (Elvire  le 
Fer) :  "I  would  never  have  believed  that  Sister  Francis  Xavier  could 
endure  the  climate  of  Indiana.  I  was  mistaken,  I  was  mistaken,"  she  added 
in  a  tone  of  profound  humility. 


142  A  MOTHER'S  ANGUISH 

"This  letter,"  says  Madame  le  Fer,  "was  the  balm 
that  God  applied  to  the  wound  of  my  heart.  I  almost 
blushed  for  the  tears  I  had  so  abundantly  shed.  I 
thanked  God  for  having  given  me  such  a  daughter. 
The  example  of  so  much  love,  so  much  virtue,  filled  me 
with  shame,  me,  so  little  worthy  to  be  her  mother,  and  I 
said,  I  too  wish  to  be  a  saint.  Then  only  could  I  make 
the  sacrifice  which  had  seemed  above  my  strength,  and 
which  really  was  so,  for  courage  comes  from  God  alone. 
I  do  not  remember  in  what  terms  I  answered  her,  but  it 
was  according  to  her  desires,  and  she  was  even  persuaded 
that  I  was  happy  in  her  happiness,  a  flattering  error  I 
was  very  careful  not  to  free  her  from.  Yes,  dear  Irma, 
if  I  was  happy  it  was  because  I  could  conceal  from  you 
the  excess  of  my  sorrow." 

To  Mother  Theodore,  Madame  le  Fer  could  pour  out 
her  heart: 

I  throw  myself  into  the  merciful  arms  of  God,  [she 
says,]  this  dear  heavenly  Father  who  has  arranged 
everything  with  so  much  goodness.  I  do  not  wish  to 
lift  the  veil  of  the  future,  and,  since  seeing  my  dear 
daughter,  I  have  recovered  the  peace  and  tranquillity 
of  which  my  poor  heart  had  so  great  need.  Dear 
Mother,  put  yourself  in  my  place  and  judge  our  respect- 
ive positions.  You  regret  Sister  Francis  Xavier 
greatly,  and  you  scarcely  know  her.  Judge,  then,  what 
the  sacrifice  has  cost  and  will  cost  her  family.  But  you, 
so  long  a  religious,  and  who  have  just  made  so  generous 
a  sacrifice  and  who  lead  more  than  we  a  life  of  renounce- 
ment of  self,  make  one  more  sacrifice  and  renounce  the 
hope  of  having  my  daughter  with  you,  for  yet  a  long 
time,  indeed,  if  ever.  The  delicacy  of  her  health  is  an 
obstacle,  and  the  will  of  God  shows  itself  in  a  special 
manner.  She  would  be  more  of  a  burden  than  an  as- 
sistance to  you,  and  I  know  that  you  have  excellent 
companions.  I  spent  more  than  eight  days  with  the 


LETTER  TO  MOTHER  THEODORE  143 

dear  Sisters  of  Providence  and  enjoyed  my  stay  greatly. 
I  was  pleased  to  be  in  a  house  where  you  had  lived  and 
which  you  had  in  some  sort  founded.  I  followed  the 
rule  of  the  religious  in  some  points,  sleeping  on  a  hard 
bed  in  a  little  cell,  which  I  put  in  order  myself;  my  dress- 
ing table  was  without  a  mirror.  I  took  my  repasts  in 
silence,  and  I  assisted  at  the  Community  Mass.  All 
that  pleased  me  very  much.  Yet  I  have  a  great  weak- 
ness. It  is  that  instead  of  asking  in  the  name  of  Our 
Lord,  I  find  myself  saying  at  every  moment,  Grant  me 
this  grace  for  the  sake  of  Irma's  sacrifice,  of  Irma's 
virtue. 

I  see  my  poor  Irma  going  away  without  any  fear; 
she  has  so  much  confidence  in  God  that,  in  conscience, 
as  she  says,  He  is  obliged  to  protect  her.  She  would 
embark  on  a  plank.  I  wish  I  could  feel  confident  of  her 
happy  voyage.  A  total  abandonment  to  God  is  better 
than  the  most  solid  and  enduring  ship.  You  will  have 
Irma  when  you  receive  this,  and  I,  alas,  I  shall  have  lost 
her  forever.  Heaven,  not  earth,  will  be  the  place  of 
our  reunion.  Good  and  dear  Mother,  how  much  we 
must  suffer  to  reach  that  blessed  abode.  Let  us  lift  up 
our  hearts.  How  many  ties  this  lifting  breaks,  how  it 
detaches,  loosens  our  poor  hearts.  You  love  my  Irma, 
do  you  not?  Do  not  take  my  place  with  her,  I  beg  of 
you ;  that,  I  could  never  endure.  If  God  deprives  me  of 
her  body,  her  face  so  angelic,  so  impressed  with  eternal 
tranquillity,  He  leaves  us  our  souls  to  love  each  other 
with  all  our  strength.  To  God  alone  I  yield  my  place, 
never  to  creatures.  What  I  beg  of  you  is  to  take  care 
of  her,  and  to  keep  her  a  little  bit  tidy.  It  is  due  to  her 
that  you  are  not  dead;  you  know  it  well,  acknowledge 
it.  But  for  her  you  would  now  be  beneath  the  sod  of 
Vincennes,  not  above  it.  Do  you  know  that  I  wept 
for  you  and  recited  the  De  Profundis  even  while  I  still 
had  some  hope?  Poor  Mother!  how  happy  I  was  to 
know  that  you  were  saved,  and  though  your  "resurrec- 
tion" was  announced  to  me  at  the  same  time  as  your 
desires  for  Irma,  that  did  not  prevent  my  offering  a 
prayer  of  gratitude  to  God. 


A  SPECIAL  VOW 

In  another  letter  Madame  le  Fer  says,  writing  again 
to  Mother  Theodore: 

Our  poor  Francis  Xavier  came  to  spend  nearly  three 
days  with  us,  three  days  of  anguish  and  tears,  yet  I 
would  not  give  them  for  ten  years  of  life.  How  much 
good  she  has  done  me,  my  little  Irma.  How  she  en- 
couraged me,  showing  me  the  nothingness  of  the  world, 
and  the  greatness  and  goodness  of  God.  She  under- 
stands my  heart  so  well,  she  compassionates  so  truly 
my  weaknesses  even  while  she  destroys  them.  It  seems 
to  me  that  if  she  had  remained  with  me  it  would  have 
been  impossible  not  to  be  always  good.  One  evening 
when  I  had  her  here  in  my  room  where  I  am  writing  to 
you,  she  called  me  to  her  bedside  and  made  me  say  with 
her,  "My  Jesus,  oh,  I  love  You  so  much!"  What  an 
impression  it  made  upon  me  1  If  you  only  knew !  and  I 
express  so  badly  what  she  felt  so  deeply.  How  little 
and  contemptible  I  felt  beside  her. 

Besides  the  favor  of  being  permitted  to  seal  her  union 
with  Our  Lord  by  Perpetual  Vows,  Irma  received  an- 
other great  favor  from  Bishop  Bouvier,  the  privilege 
of  a  special  consecration  of  herself,  a  special  vow. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Ruille,  July  23,  1841. 

How  much  good  your  joy  has  done  me,  my  dear 
mother!  I  had  hoped  God  would  strengthen  you  all, 
but  His  goodness  has  surpassed  all  my  expectations. 
Sunday  morning  I  said  the  eternal,  the  beautiful  word, 
"I  am  Thine  forever" ;  for  God,  whose  mercy  is  without 
bounds,  has  allowed  me  to  take  my  perpetual  vows. 
What  more  shall  I  say?  Ah! — I  HAVE  BEEN  PERMITTED 

TO  GIVE  MYSELF  TO  JESUS  IN  THE  BLESSED  SACRAMENT. 

I  had  always  desired  to  belong  in  a  special  manner  to 
Him  in  this  Sacrament  of  His  love,  and  He  has  deigned 
to  grant  my  request.  Oh!  how  good,  how  generous  He 
is!  What  will  He  be  to  us  in  heaven  when  even  here 


PARTING  RECOMMENDATIONS 

on  earth  He  gives  us  so  many  proofs  of  His  goodness? 
We  must  expect  Him  to  treat  us  now,  as  Saint  Francis 
de  Sales  says,  as  true  religious.  No,  my  dear  mother, 
do  not  send  the  hundred  francs;  it  is  entirely  decided. 
They  have  abundantly  provided  me  with  all  I  need,  so 
be  quiet ;  keep  that  for  my  sisters.  Dear  Sister  Eudoxie 
sends  you  her  kind  regards;  she  will  be  glad  to  give 
you  more  news  of  the  trunk.  We  have  cozy  chats  to- 
gether. It  is  a  great  comfort  that  God  gives  me  an 
opportunity  to  ask  and  receive  advice.  My  health  is 
better,  and  for  some  days  past  I  have  had  a  better 
appetite. 

Recommend  me  to  the  prayers  of  all  those  who  are 
interested  in  the  mission  of  Vincennes ;  for  this  concerns 
not  only  my  own  salvation  and  perfection,  but  the  sal- 
vation of  many  souls,  who,  perhaps,  would  be  saved  if 
I  were  more  perfect.  I  must  give  out  of  my  abundance, 
though  I  have  scarcely  even  what  is  necessary.  I  must 
become  a  Saint  Francis  Xavier,  and  live  by  sacrifices 
only,  interior  mortification,  and  self-denial;  otherwise  I 
shall  be  unworthy  of  my  vocation.  Do  not  fear,  my 
dear  parents ;  God  will  do  His  work  gently  in  me.  You 
know  His  tenderness;  be  also  assured  of  mine. 

To  HER  SISTER  PEPA 

Ruille,  July  31,  1841. 

Well,  my  dear  Pepa,  your  poor  sister  is  at  last  going 
to  have  the  happiness  of  taking  her  flight  to  America  to 
gain  souls  to  Jesus  our  Savior.  Rejoice  with  me,  for 
I  am  very  happy.  I  used  to  add  "humanly"  to  "happy" 
to  please  you;  but  to-day,  you  understand,  the  soul's 
happiness  is  a  thousand  times  above  any  natural  satis- 
faction, for  joy  of  heart  surpasses  all  that  the  world 
can  give.  I  think  you  are  in  so  good  a  path  that  I 
must  congratulate  rather  than  counsel  you.  Still,  you 
must  advance  along  the  broad  straight  road  that  God 
has  set  you  in,  otherwise  you  will  be  more  culpable  than 
another  who  has  to  walk  in  a  rough  and  narrow  path. 
Have  great  confidence  in  Jesus  and  Mary,  and  make 


146  TRAVELING  COMPANIONS 

some  meditation;  but  never  on  "dead  shrubs"  or  on 
"roses  withered  in  this  valley  of  time." 

The  life  of  Jesus,  His  doctrine,  His  Passion,  heaven, 
eternity,  these  subjects  nourish  the  soul;  all  else  ener- 
vates instead  of  strengthening  it.  You  know  I  can 
speak  on  this  subject  from  experience.1 

I  shall  leave  Providence  [the  convent]  of  Ruille 
Monday  evening.  Pray  for  me.  Mother  Mary  has 
recommended  me  to  the  Abbe  Bellier.  The  maid  from 
Rennes  will  be  my  servant,  which  is  not  very  apostolic, 
I  know,  but  it  is  the  will  of  God,  for  it  is  my  superior's 
will. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Havre,  Friday,  August  7, 1841. 

I  arrived  here  at  two  o'clock.  Three  leagues  of  the 
journey  was  by  sea,  and  I,  together  with  three-fourths 
of  the  passengers,  had  to  pay  tribute.  I  should  have 
been  much  amused  at  these  improvised  hospital  scenes 
if  I  had  not  been  one  of  the  actors.  I  am  better  now, 
and  I  have  just  dined  with  the  Religious  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  whom  I  do  not  know  but  who  received  me  very 
kindly.  In  a  few  hours  I  shall  be  at  St.  Thomas's. 

The  Lord  in  His  goodness  gave  me  as  traveling  com- 
panions not  only  six  Brothers  and  two  priests  from  Le 
Mans,  but  a  pious  layman  also,  M.  Dupont,  a  resident 
of  Tours.  He  was  with  me  in  the  front  part  of  the 
stage,  the  ecclesiastics  being  inside.  We  spent  a  night 
as  if  at  the  gate  of  heaven.  We  spoke  continually  of 
Jesus  and  Mary.  He  is  twenty-five  times  more  devout 
than  I  am.  After  the  beads  he  made  me  say  a  great 
many  Aves  for  the  conversion  of  sinners  and  the  per- 
severance of  persons  in  whom  he  is  specially  interested. 
Then  from  eleven  o'clock  till  midnight  we  made  the 
Way  of  the  Cross  on  an  indulgenced  crucifix.  We  took 
turns  in  meditating  aloud.  When  he  proposed  it  I 
thought  it  would  make  me  laugh,  or,  if  I  had  beautiful 
thoughts,  inspire  me  with  vanity.  Alas!  dear  mother, 

i  Reference  to  her  own  girlish  melancholy. 


"THE  HOLY  MAN  OF  TOURS"  147 

if  you  could  know  what  depth  of  faith,  simplicity,  and 
love  there  is  in  the  heart  of  this  man!  Instead  of  laugh- 
ing, I  wept.  We  could  not  tear  ourselves  away  from 
the  Cross  of  Jesus,  at  the  foot  of  which  we  found  Mary, 
His  Mother.  This  truly  apostolic  man  is  spending  his 
time  making  pilgrimages  to  shrines  of  our  Blessed  Lady. 
He  intends  soon  to  publish,  from  the  data  he  has  gath- 
ered, a  book  which  will  suggest  a  pilgrimage  for  every 
day  of  the  year,  and  appropriate  meditations  composed 
by  one  of  his  ecclesiastical  friends.  He  is  going  to 
Brittany  to  study  more  closely  the  miracles  of  Our  Lady 
of  Ron^aie ;  thence  he  will  go  to  Saint  Jouan,  beginning 
with  the  humble  little  pilgrimage  of  Our  Lady  of 
Lorette.  With  what  pleasure  I  gave  him  that  address. 
He  will  see  grandmother's  little  chapel,  and  he  will  see 
you.  He  is  a  saint,  an  angel,  whom  God  has  sent  me  on 
my  journey  to  sustain  and  humble  me;  for  I  am  a  worm 
before  his  profound  faith  and  his  sublime  humility. 

Whenever  he  saw  a  church  steeple,  he  would  recite  in 
Latin  a  prayer  of  Saint  Francis  Assisi,  "There  and  in 
all  the  churches  of  the  world  you  are  present,  O  Jesus !" 
he  would  say.  His  soul  would  then  seem  to  melt  away 
in  thinking  of  the  love  of  Our  Lord.  I  went  to  sleep, 
but  he  continued  his  meditations  until  morning;  and 
when  I  awoke  he  said  to  me,  quoting  a  saint,  "We  must 
speak  of  God  or  keep  silence."  We  did  speak  of  our 
good  Savior  and,  to  profit  by  his  counsels  and  example, 
I,  in  my  turn,  speak  to  you  of  Jesus,  so  kind,  so  gener- 
ous to  your  child. 

Good-by,  my  dear  mother;  be  hopeful  and  thankful. 
I  feel  more  happy  than  ever,  but  also  extremely  weak. 
Pray  much,  redouble  your  prayers.  Sunday  evening 
or  Monday  morning  I  shall  begin  my  great  journey. 
My  visible  angel  took  care  of  all  my  affairs,  helped  me 
on  leaving  the  ship,  and  conducted  me  to  these  good 
religious,  whom  he  knows.1 

i  This  pious  traveler  who  happened  to  meet  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  on 
her  way  to  Havre  must  have  been  already  recognized  by  the  reader  as  the 
"Holy  Man  of  Tours,"  Monsieur  I.ron  Dupont.  The  saintly  man  remained 
ever  afterwards  the  faithful  friend  of  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  It  may 


148  COMPANIONS  OF  VOYAGE 

To  HER  FATHER 

Havre,  August  8,  1841. 

If  the  wind  is  favorable,  we  shall  start  in  a  few  hours. 
I  am  incomparably  better  than  I  expected  to  be.  My 
heart  is  now  very  peaceful,  but  the  Iowa  [the  name  of 
the  ship]  will  give  it  some  tosses. 

The  Ladies  of  Saint  Thomas  received  me  very  kindly. 
I  found  in  Mother  Protet  a  true  compatriot  and  a  per- 
fect religious.  The  Ladies  of  the  Sacred  Heart  treat 
me  as  their  Sister,  and  the  superior  makes  me  sleep  in 
her  room.  This  one  example  will  give  you  an  idea  of 
her  attentions.  Father  Sorin *  is  very  kind,  and  we 
shall  have  Mass  on  board.  The  maid  from  Rennes  has 
not  come;  fortunately,  for  these  Ladies  have  two  lay 
Sisters,  and  she  would  have  embarrassed  me  greatly. 
God  does  all  things  well;  therefore,  let  us  leave  all  to 
Him  and  be  satisfied  to  love  Him.  I  have  received  all 
your  letters;  a  thousand  thanks  to  mamma,  to  my  sis- 
ters and  little  Louis. 

Since  morning  I  have  been  dressed  somewhat  like  a 
lady.  I  have  a  black  bonnet,  and  I  wear  a  shawl  over 
my  religious  dress.  This  pleases  the  Superior  of  the 
Sacred  Heart,  as  otherwise  I  alone  should  have  been  in 
a  religious  costume.  On  my  arrival  in  New  York  I 
shall  go  with  these  Ladies  to  their  convent.  M.  Dupont 
gave  me  twenty-four  francs  for  Providence  at  Saint 

be  of  interest  to  know  with  what  esteem  the  "Holy  Man  of  Tours"  regarded 
Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier.  In  presenting  the  "Life  of  Marie  Eustelle"  to 
the  Rev.  E.  Sorin,  C.S.C.,  August,  1844,  he  wrote  the  following:  "I  shall 
send  a  copy  of  this  beautiful  work  to  dear  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier.  Oh ! 
she  will  understand  and  appreciate  the  great  love  of  Marie  Eustelle  for  our 
good  Savior  Jesus.  How  happy  I  should  be  could  I  induce  a  soul  as  strong 
as  that  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  to  join  hi  your  work!  But  such  a 
soul  as  hers  one  rarely  meets." 

i  Father  Sorin,  a  member  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Holy  Cross,  a  mis- 
sionary society  of  priests  founded  at  Le  Mans  by  Abbe"  Moreau,  was  sent  to 
take  part  in  the  conversion  of  Indiana.  With  six  Brothers  of  his  Order  he 
went  to  Saint  Peter's  in  the  diocese  of  Vincennes;  but  after  a  short  stay  he 
proceeded  to  northern  Indiana,  and  founded  the  mission  of  Notre  Dame, 
near  South  Bend.  In  the  course  of  time,  this  Indian  missionary  station 
developed  into  one  of  the  largest  religious  educational  institutions  in  the 
country,  Notre  Dame  University. 


EVENTS  OF  DEPARTURE  149 

Mary-of -the- Woods ;  we  do  not  often  meet  such  a  man 
as  he  is.  My  sisters  might  collect  something  from  good 
Marianne  Longueville.  Before  you  receive  this  letter 
we  shall  have  weighed  anchor;  we  start  at  two  o'clock 
Sunday  afternoon. 

I  feel  the  effect  of  your  prayers.  I  receive  prodig- 
ious graces,  and  my  heart  is  not  troubled  on  leaving. 
My  good  parents,  I  have  always  loved  you  tenderly,  but 
I  love  you  a  thousand  times  more  since  you  have  given 
me  to  Jesus.  Continue  your  prayers  for  me  and  ask 
all  the  family,  not  forgetting  my  dear  cousins  of  Rosais, 
to  pray  for  me  too. 

Abbe  Moreau1  did  not  then  go  to  America,  but  he 
went  as  far  as  Havre  with  the  members  of  his  congrega- 
tion, Abbe  Sorin  and  the  six  Brothers,  who  were  to  pre- 
cede him  to  that  country.  The  maid  from  Rennes  was 
to  have  care  of  Irma  who,  during  the  voyage,  was  to  be 
under  the  protection  of  two  priests.  As  it  would  not 
have  been  proper  for  her  to  travel  alone  with  them  if 
there  had  been  no  women  on  board,  she  was  greatly  dis- 
tressed when  at  the  time  of  departure  she  learned  that 
Abbe  Bellier  was  detained  in  France  and  that  the  young 
girl  of  Rennes  would  not  go  without  him. 

To  her  sister  Eugenie,  Irma  wrote: 

I  tell  you,  and  you  only,  that  on  Monday  I  was  not 
certain  of  going,  for  if  there  had  been  no  women  on  the 
snip,  I  would  not  have  embarked;  but,  fortunately,  I 
can  go  with  the  Religious  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  I  must 
tell  you,  too,  that  my  trunk,  which  contains  all  my 
things,  and  which  ought  to  have  been  here  two  days  ago, 
has  not  yet  come.  I  leave  to-morrow  without  having 

i  In  1836  Abb6  Antoine  Moreau  accepted  the  Brothers  of  Saint  Joseph 
established  at  Ruille-sur-Loir  by  Abbd  Francois  Dujari6,  their  founder  (also 
founder  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence  of  Ruille-sur-Loir).  Abb£  Moreau 
united  the  Brothers  of  Saint  Joseph  to  the  society  of  missionary  priests  that 
he  had  founded,  and  thus  formed  the  Congregation  of  the  Holy  Cross,  of 
which  he  was  the  first  Superior  General, 


150  EVENTS  OF  DEPARTURE 

the  least  little  thing  with  me,  not  even  my  pocket-book. 
Do  not  be  troubled;  God  gives  me  the  consolation  of 
going  like  an  apostle.  I  say  this  so  that  you  may  thank 
God  for  the  trials  He  sends  me. 

Writing  from  New  York  she  referred  again  to  the 
events  of  her  departure : 

For  a  long  time  I  have  known  how  infinitely  good 
Jesus  is,  but  during  these  months  especially  I  have 
experienced  His  tenderness.  You  know  how  undecided 
my  future  was  when  I  went  home  from  Brest.  I  told 
you,  too,  of  my  night  of  anguish  there.  Well,  God 
permitted  Monseigneur  Bouvier  to  decide  positively 
that  my  vocation  was  for  Vincennes.  He  permitted  me 
to  see  the  Superior  General  and  receive  her  last  counsels. 
And  then,  and  then  this  grace  which  surpasses  all  others 
— I  took  my  vows;  and  to  the  mission  of  Vincennes  I 
owe  this  happiness.  But  the  time  of  trial  came.  I  had 
to  leave  Providence  and  go  to  Le  Mans ;  there  I  learned 
that  Abbe  Bellier  was  not  going  to  America.  Fiat! 
Was  the  young  girl  from  Rennes  going?  They  knew 
nothing  of  her.  Fiat !  My  trunk  was  lost  and  I  really 
had  nothing.  Fiat!  This  word  was  my  strength  and 
my  hope.  But  at  last  the  trunk  did  come,1  four  hours 
before  my  departure,  and  with  my  companions  I  took 

i  In  some  reminiscences  of  the  "Holy  Man  of  Tours,"  written  by  Sister 
Mary  Joseph — Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier's  sister  Elvire — reference  is  made 
to  this  journey  and  the  lost  trunk.  "When  they  arrived  at  Le  Mans,  our 
travelers  went  to  the  convent  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence.  The  superior 
of  that  house  having  asked  my  sister  whether  she  had  a  trunk  was  answered 
in  the  affirmative.  But  where  was  it?  That  was  a  difficult  question  to 
answer.  Monsieur  Dupont  went  to  the  different  coaches  to  make  inquiries, 
but  with  no  success.  He,  however,  returned  to  Sister  Saint  Francis,  who 
was  to  leave  for  Havre  early  the  next  morning,  and  told  her  not  to  worry 
about  the  trunk,  for  Saint  Anthony  would  find  it.  He  was  going  to  pray 
for  this  intention  and  she  must  do  likewise.  Later  the  Sisters,  as  usual, 
closed  the  large  front  gate  of  the  convent  before  retiring  for  the  night. 
When  the  portress  rose  the  next  morning  at  five  o'clock,  she  found  a  trunk 
inside  the  court  on  the  pavement  near  the  door,  although  the  latter  was 
bolted.  Nobody  had  rung  the  bell,  nobody  had  opened  the  door.  The  trunk 
was  not  there  when  the  Sisters  retired,  but  it  was  there  now!  The  event 
caused  no  surprise  to  Monsieur  Dupont.  Saint  Anthony  had  taken  care  of 
the  trunk  while  they  were  occupied  with  Our  Lord." 


EVENTS  OF  DEPARTURE  151 

the  stage.  On  reaching  Havre  we  learned  that  the 
passage  of  the  Ladies  of  the  Sacred  Heart  had  been 
engaged  on  the  Iowa,  and  the  Brothers  and  mine  on  the 
Victoria.  What  were  we  to  do?  Monsieur  Dupont 
began  to  pray,  and  I  waited  in  peace.  After  much 
trouble  and  the  loss  of  one  thousand  francs,  we  found 
ourselves  on  board  the  Iowa  without  Abbe  Bellier  or 
the  maid. 

You  understand,  dear  Eugenie,  what  a  favor  it  has 
been  for  me  to  travel  with  these  religious.  They  were 
to  have  left  two  months  ago.  Who  detained  them? 
God,  who  knew  I  expected  all  from  Him.  What  would 
have  become  of  me?  For  on  my  arrival  in  New  York, 
Abbe  Sorin  alone  could  not  have  taken  care  of  me. 
"Providence  of  God,  refuge  of  the  miserable  and  repose 
of  the  heart,"  You  had  an  asylum  for  me,  and  that 
asylum  was  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus. 


PART  TWO— AMERICA  (INDIANA) 
CHAPTER  I 

THE  VOYAGE — NEW   YORK 

THOUGH  the  following  letters  are  dated  from  on 
board  the  Iowa  and  from  New  York,  they  are 
connected  with  the  missionary  life  of  Sister  Saint 
Francis  Xavier,  and  are  therefore  joined  to  her  corre- 
spondence from  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods : 

To  HER  SISTER  CECILE 

On  board  the  Iowa, 

Aug.  28,  1841  (Saint  Augustine's  day). 
You  asked  me  to  keep  a  journal,  dear  sisters.  I  shall 
epitomize  in  two  lines  the  first  twenty  days  of  my  voy- 
age :  Sea-sickness  reduced  me  to  the  state  of  an  infant 
in  swaddling  clothes;  this  is  the  unvarnished  truth.  I 
could  not  help  myself  in  any  way,  and  was  cared  for 
by  the  good  Ladies  of  the  Sacred  Heart  and  our  Ameri- 
can negress,  Rebecca.  I  gave  the  latter  a  medal  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  which  she  put  around  her  neck.  I 
preach  English  sermons  to  her;  you  can  imagine  how 
eloquent  they  are.  I  am  taking  English  lessons  from 
one  of  the  passengers,  Mr.  Carls,  who  has  a  daughter' 
of  twenty-three  on  whom  I  am  exercising  my  zeal.  She 
is  a  thousand  times  more  pliable  than  my  flinty  Foote, 
and  I  hope  for  good  results  from  a  novena  that  we  are 
making  for  her  and  her  father,  who  is  also  very  good.  I 
have  to  limit  my  outward  zeal  to  these  two  and  Captain 
Falk,  for  a  troop  of  actors  and  actresses  make  up  the 
rest  of  the  passengers,  and  as  Madame  Bathilde  does  not 

153 


154  ON  BOARD  THE  IOWA 

think  it  proper  for  us  to  associate  with  them,  she  does  not 
allow  me  to  give  them  little  sermons. 

We  have  been  almost  a  month  on  the  Iowa.  How 
good  God  is !  We  have  had  Mass  six  times  and  I  have 
received  Holy  Communion  five  times.  If  you  knew 
how  happy  we  are  when  our  Divine  Savior  comes  into 
our  little  cabin  to  encourage  and  strengthen  us!  We 
have  very  poor  ornaments ;  our  chalice  is  copper,  but  the 
priest  is  gold.  He  has  the  heart  of  an  apostle,  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  dove  mingled  with  the  wisdom  of  the  ser- 
pent. He  is  admirable  among  his  Brothers,  who  are  in 
the  steerage  for  the  sake  of  holy  poverty;  they  do  their 
own  cooking,  whilst  we  are  in  gilded  salons  and  at  a 
table  where  art  and  nature  vie  with  each  other  to  flatter 
the  senses.  Oh !  how  happy  they  are !  When  shall  I, 
too,  be  poor?  Day  before  yesterday  we  had  the  happi- 
ness of  seeing  a  little  girl  two  years  old  receive  baptism ; 
she  died  shortly  after,  our  deputy  for  the  mission  of 
Vincennes.  The  sea  has  her  body,  but  heaven,  her  soul. 

When  you  receive  this  letter  I  shall  doubtless  have 
begun  my  missionary  career.  O  my  beautiful  vocation! 
If  I  could  but  understand  it  well!  Help  me  by  your 
prayers.  Remember  I  am  working  for  the  whole 
family.  Hereafter  I  shall  write  to  you  but  seldom,  for 
several  reasons:  the  cost  of  postage,  want  of  time — for 
there  they  have  work  for  thirty  Sisters — and  especially, 
Cecile,  for  another  motive  that  you  will  guess.  Yes ,  to 
gain  souls  to  God  and  to  correspond  with  my  sublime 
vocation  I  must  make  sacrifices.  As  I  shall  offer  them 
for  you,  you  must  not  ask  any  more  long  letters.  Help 
me  in  my  pious  designs,  for,  like  the  great  apostle  who 
leaped  for  joy  when  he  thought  of  the  chains  awaiting 
him  at  Jerusalem,  I  say  with  him,  "What  are  you  do- 
ing? why  weaken  my  courage  by  your  tears?"  O  Paul! 
chains  and  death  do  not  move  you,  nor  the  tears  of  your 
brothers  disturb  you.1 

i  Madame  le  Fer,  understanding  the  meritorious  sacrifice  that  her  daughter 
wished  to  impose  on  herself,  but  which  would  have  weighed  heavily  on  all 
the  family,  entreated  Mother  Theodore  to  allow  Inna  to  continue  her  regular 
correspondence,  which  request  was  granted. 


ON  BOARD  THE  IOWA  155 

On  the  4th  of  September  she  wrote  to  her  little 
brother  Louis,  giving  him  some  details  about  the  Iowa: 

It  is  but  right  to  answer  your  pretty  letter,  since  you 
ask  so  modestly  for  only  a  little  page,  and  since  you 
have  done  so  great  a  service  to  my  goddaughter  by  sav- 
ing her  from  the  goat's  horns;  but  this  short  page  will 
give  you  a  great  deal  of  news,  and  I  know  how  charm- 
ingly you  will  tell  it. 

Our  packet  is  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long;  that 
is  very  large,  you  see,  but  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  tell 
you  how  beautiful  it  is.  The  doors  of  our  rooms  are  of 
citron  and  mahogany,  the  locks  of  silver.  We  have  met 
several  vessels  on  our  route,  but  ours  has  outdistanced 
them  all.  You  would  see  on  board  some  beautiful  birds 
that  the  passengers  are  taking  with  them;  also  a  large 
cow,  some  sheep,  pigs,  ducks,  chickens,  and  rabbits, 
which  serve  us  for  food.  You  would  enjoy  yourself 
climbing  up  the  masts,  but  you  would  also  see  some  little 
boys  of  your  own  age  in  the  steerage,  carrying  water, 
cooking,  and  obeying  their  parents  promptly.  These 
are  six  little  Germans  who  like  me  very  much.  I  gave 
them  some  pictures  and  medals.  They  come  and  make 
the  sign  of  the  cross  for  me;  it  is  all  they  can  say,  as 
they  do  not  know  French.  I  trust  my  little  Louis  has 
become  very  gentle,  now  that  he  is  seriously  preparing 
for  the  great  day  of  his  First  Holy  Communion.  I 
hope  that  he  no  longer  makes  the  plank ; l  that  he  has 

i  An  allusion  to  one  of  the  tricks  of  her  little  brother,  who,  when  about  to 
be  punished,  would  often  take  flight  to  the  garden,  and  throw  himself  on  his 
back  in  one  of  the  paths,  stiff,  heavy,  inert,  his  arms  stuck  to  his  sides,  giving 
no  hold  to  his  poor  mother,  who  was  thus  forced  to  let  the  naughty  child 
alone.  He  called  this  trick  his  PLANK  OF  SAFETY.  The  same  little  brother, 
surnamed  petit  loup  (little  wolf),  had  a  very  decided  taste  for  apples  and 
pears,  which  his  eldest  sister  kept  locked  up.  He  used,  therefore,  to  inquire 
very  anxiously  about  her  health.  Every  morning  he  would  ask  with  solici- 
tude, "How  is  your  head  to-day,  my  poor  sister?"  And  if  the  reply  was 
plaintive  and  the  sick  one  was  in  bed,  he  would  find  means  of  secretly  taking 
the  key  of  the  fruit  room  and  eating  apples  in  his  Eden.  One  day  his  sister 
got  up  in  spite  of  her  headache  and  locked  the  "little  wolf"  in  his  pen. 
Little  Louis  was  terribly  alarmed  and  begged  her  to  open  the  door  lest 
his  parents  should  learn  his  misdeed.  Sister  Saint  Francis,  to  whom  they 
related  this  incident,  said:  "What,  my  dear  Eugenie!  God,  to  punish  our 


156  ON  BOARD  THE  IOWA 

forgotten  the  road  to  the  fruit  room,  and  that  his  marks 
are  excellent.     I  embrace  you  with  all  my  heart. 

To  HER  MOTHEE 

In  Sight  of  New  York, 

Sept.  12,  1841. 

Blessed  be  God!  We  are  now  near  New  York,  and 
by  the  time  I  finish  this  letter  we  shall  have  arrived, 
after  five  weeks  of  the  most  happy  and  peaceful  voyage 
that  our  heavenly  Father  could  give  us;  not  a  single 
stormy  day.  God  who  calms  the  impetuosity  of  the 
waves  to  let  the  halcyons  build  their  nests,  knew  how 
weak  a  creature  was  sailing  that  sea,  and  He  suspended 
the  storms  for  fear  their  violence  should  cause  my  death ; 
for,  notwithstanding  the  calm,  I  was  sick  almost  inces- 
santly for  twenty  days.  Still,  the  sea  has  not  been  so 
bad,  even  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  as  it  was  from 
Honfleur  to  Havre.  The  upsetting  those  three  leagues 
gave  me  made  me  write  to  the  Superior  General  that  I 
certainly  could  not  reach  New  York  alive.  I  predicted 
my  death  so  positively  that  now  I  scarcely  dare  tell  her 
I  am  still  living.  You  ask  me  for  my  journal.  I  have 
sent  it  to  Cecile  in  three  lines,  and  I  have  given  Louis 
the  exterior  news. 

News  of  my  soul  would  please  you  perhaps  yet  more, 
my  dearest  mother.  Well,  I  shall  tell  you  that  the 
weather  was  but  an  image  of  the  peace  I  felt  during 
our  happy  voyage.  It  is  true  I  was  not  able  to  enjoy 
the  beauties  of  nature;  once  only  did  I  see  the  sun  set 
and  the  moon  rise ;  during  three  weeks  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  look  at  the  water  two  minutes,  and  even  after- 
wards I  could  not  look  out  over  the  vast  expanse  of  the 
sea  without  feeling  sick.  Still,  I  received  Holy  Com- 
munion as  often  as  we  had  Mass,  which  happiness  God 
gave  me  nine  times.  Then  when  my  health  permitted,  I 
followed  the  exercises  of  my  good  companions.  All  six 
of  us  were  in  a  little  cabin  that  served  as  a  chapel,  recrea- 

first  parents  for  their  gluttony,  drove  them  from  the  terrestrial  paradise,  and 
for  the  same  fault  you  lock  up  your  brother  there." 


LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK       157 

tion  room,  and  confessional.  Abbe  Sorin  read  to  us 
sometimes  from  Bossuet,  at  which  Mademoiselle  Carls 
used  to  be  present.  I  hope  it  will  some  day  convert  her ; 
besides,  we  had  pious  conversations  which  reanimated 
our  fervor.  Finally,  God  spoiled  me,  as  usual,  although 
I  have  been  very  lazy,  very  wicked,  and  in  every  respect 
such  as  would  displease  Him,  were  He  not  so  good. 

I  have  prayed  much  for  all  of  you,  and  I  offered  all 
the  sufferings  of  my  seasickness  for  your  intention. 
Laugh  at  this  offering  if  you  wish.  I  do  not  forget  that 
the  13th  is  your  feast,  as  well  as  my  dear  Eugenie's, 
whom  I  embrace  with  all  the  others. 

On  leaving  Havre  the  only  sensation  I  experienced 
was  one  of  haste.  We  left  so  hurriedly  that  I  had  no 
time  to  write  to  Ruille  nor  even  to  say  good-by  to  the 
religious  of  Saint  Thomas.  I  arrived  at  New  York 
as  if  I  were  returning  from  my  drawing-lesson  at 
Lorette,  or  from  the  little  grove  of  Providence  at  the 
Mother  House.  I  do  not  understand  myself.  I  seem  to 
be  as  well  acquainted  with  America  as  if  I  had  left  it 
only  yesterday.  I  have  no  other  emotions  than  those 
which  show  me  the  land  as  one  where  I  must  make  Jesus 
known  and  loved;  as  for  the  rest  I  feel  nothing.  My 
beautiful  vocation  quickens  my  heart-beats  every  time  I 
think  of  it;  but  the  words  "country,"  "foreign  land," 
have  not  yet  affected  me.  God  performs  miracles. 
Ah !  how  good  it  is  to  trust  in  Him ! 

Last  evening  the  pilot  came  on  board  to  take  us  to 
New  York.  On  seeing  him  in  his  little  bark  I  thought, 
how  many  men  for  a  few  pieces  of  money  wander  about 
day  and  night  in  the  midst  of  the  waves,  looking  for  a 
ship  to  guide  it  to  its  destination,  while  Christians  do 
nothing  to  save  souls!  I,  too,  wish  to  be  a  pilot,  and 
will  seek  amid  wrecks  and  tempests  for  neglected  souls 
— floating  barks — and  I  will  leave  them  only  when  I 
have  brought  them  safe  into  port.  One  day  we  shall 
cry  out  together,  "Land!  Land!"  not  then  the  land  of 
this  perishable  earth  but  the  land  of  our  true  country, 
heaven. 


158  LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK 

So,  my  beloved  mother,  pray  for  me,  for  I  must  have 
invincible  courage  to  fulfill  my  vocation.  I  must  be  a 
saint.  I  must  be  dead  and  buried  with  Jesus  Christ; 
and  if  I  do  not  die,  like  the  grain  of  wheat,  I  shall  re- 
main alone. 

The  next  day  she  finished  her  letter  from  New  York : 

My  dearest  Mother : — Yesterday,  for  your  feast,  our 
dear  Lord  conducted  your  daughter  to  port,  which  she 
had  been  looking  at  for  three  days  without  being  able  to 
enter,  our  packet  having  been  detained  by  a  dead  calm. 
On  the  steamer  I  found  a  letter  from  Mother  Theodore 
which  was  brought  to  me  by  Mr.  Beyerly;  eight  days 
ago  he  made  his  abjuration,  and  is  already  almost  as 
perfect  as  dear  Monsieur  Dupont. 

Good  Mother  Theodore!  Her  whole  heart  is  in  her 
letter.  I  can  hardly  understand  the  confidence  with 
which  she  expects  me.  On  seeing  American  soil  I  said 
to  myself,  All  the  other  passengers  have  friends  or 
parents  there;  but  no  one  is  expecting  me.  Well,  see 
what  care  our  good  Savior  Jesus  has  for  me.  I  alone 
of  all  the  passengers  had  some  one  to  meet  me;  for  me 
alone  were  there  letters  in  the  steamboat.  Still  more, 
Mr.  Beyerly  invited  me,  in  the  name  of  the  Princess 
Gallitzin,  to  go  to  the  Convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
with  the  other  religious.  At  this  last  mark  of  love  my 
heart  melted  with  gratitude  and  I  felt  like  saying  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  My  good  Mother,  if  I  ever  mistrust  the 
Providence  of  God,  I  am  willing  to  be  hanged.  As  the 
friend  with  whom  Father  Sorin  and  his  Brothers  were 
to  stay  was  absent,  he  found  himself  friendless.  The 
letter  of  recommendation  for  me  written  by  Mother 
Theodore  to  Mr.  Beyerly,  in  which  she  spoke  of  the 
Brothers,  inspired  this  good  Catholic  gentleman  to  in- 
vite all  those  poor  missionaries  to  his  house.  Father 
Sorin,  speaking  of  the  warm  welcome  he  received,  re- 
peated with  me  this  morning,  "O  my  God,  I  believe  in 
Your  providence." 

On  leaving  the  Iowa  and  our  good  Brothers  I  felt 


LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK  159 

regret,  to  speak  plainly.  Judge  from  this  what  a  mir- 
acle God  worked  in  my  favor.  I  could  leave  France 
without  emotion,  but  in  leaving  the  carcass  of  a  ship  I 
was  sad.  There  it  was  God ;  here  it  is  I.  I  am  writing 
from  the  Convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  where  I  have 
begun  my  first  day  under  the  auspices  of  the  cross: — 
to-day  is  the  14th,  feast  of  the  Exaltation.  I  offer  you 
for  your  feast  the  seal  of  the  Sacred  Heart  which  is  at 
the  top  of  my  letter ;  the  Heart  of  Mary  is  for  Eugenie, 
and  the  Heart  of  Jesus  is  for  you.  Truly,  dear  mother, 
this  may  be  considered  a  present  from  a  person  who  has 
nothing.  .  .  .  My  Savior  Jesus,  can  I  offer  anything 
richer  than  Your  Sacred  Heart?  .  .  . 

You  will  receive  this  letter  before  I  reach  Vincennes, 
for  the  Princess  Gallitzin  does  not  intend  leaving  for 
St.  Louis  until  next  month.  She  received  me  most 
graciously.  Although  she  was  born  in  Russia,  she  is  as 
simple  and  frank  as  a  Breton.  I  am  perfectly  at  home 
here ;  in  fact,  I  am  only  too  comfortable. 

To  MOTHER  THEODORE 

September  13,  1841. 
My  very  honored  Mother: 

God  be  praised !  I  hoped  to  be  able  to  pronounce  these 
words  with  you  and  to  be  myself  the  bearer  of  the  news 
of  my  arrival.  Well,  again,  God  be  blessed  for  this 
delay  I  No  doubt  it  is  for  my  good  that  He  keeps  me 
here.  We  had  a  very  favorable  voyage,  which,  how- 
ever, did  not  prevent  me  from  being  twenty-six  days  in 
such  a  state  of  prostration  that  no  one  thought  I  should 
live.  I  fear  my  journey  from  New  York  will  carry  off 
the  remainder  of  my  strength,  so  that  you  will  receive 
me  in  all  my  misery.  Poor  dear  Mother,  you  will  not 
be  long  in  finding  out  what  a  burden  you  wished  for ;  but 
it  is  God  who  sends  me  and  He  is  willing  to  accept  me 
such  as  I  am.  This  good  Savior  Jesus,  oh !  how  I  shall 
endeavor  to  please  Him,  to  thank  Him  for  having  kept 
me  for  my  beautiful  vocation  for  Vincennes !  I  do  not 
know  what  He  will  be  able  to  do  with  me,  for  I  can  not 


160       LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK 

see  for  what  part  of  His  service  I  am  fit,  unless  at 
Saint  Mary's  they  build  with  reeds. 

My  good  Mother,  if  I  am  wanting  in  strength  and  in 
virtue,  at  least  I  come  to  offer  to  you,  as  to  one  who 
holds  the  place  of  God  in  my  regard,  my  good  will,  my 
whole  life;  receive  all,  for  I  only  come  to  obey  God  in 
everything  and  everywhere.  I  thank  you  in  advance 
for  the  prayers  you  will  offer  for  me,  and  also  for  all 
those  you  have  no  doubt  offered  for  me  since  we  parted. 
I  was  truly  in  great  need  of  strength  from  God;  and 
you,  too,  have  been  obliged  to  hide  yourself  in  the  mer- 
cies of  the  Lord.  How  much  you  must  have  suffered 
during  this  year !  If  I  could  regret  anything  in  having 
done  the  will  of  God,  it  would  be  not  to  have  gone  with 
you  to  share  with  our  Sisters  their  uneasiness,  their  dis- 
tresses, all  the  pains  of  their  first  trials;  but  God  saw 
that  I  was  too  weak  for  such  favors,  so  He  waited. 
Besides,  I  suppose  that  you  have  not  taken  all  the  crosses 
in  Indiana,  and  that  some  will  remain  for  me. 

We  find  another  letter  addressed  to  Mother  Theodore, 
which  is  given  in  its  entirety : 

Sacred  Heart  Convent,  New  York,  1841. 
My  very  honored  Mother: 

I  do  not  know  whether  this  letter  will  precede  the 
one  I  sent  by  Father  Sorin  which  announces  to  you  my 
safe  arrival  at  New  York,  or  whether  it  will  be  a  repe- 
tition of  the  first.  No  matter.  It  is  not  too  much  to 
say  twice  that  I  am  here,  my  entire  self,  in  America. 
Let  us  bless  God  together  for  my  happy  voyage,  and 
bless  Him  also  for  having  opened  to  me  an  asylum  at 
the  Sacred  Heart  [Convent]  where  I  am  recovering 
from  the  fatigues  of  the  journey,  and  where  in  medita- 
ting on  His  goodness,  I  draw  in  new  strength  for  the 
work  for  which  He  intends  me.  Let  us  thank  Him  for 
His  benefits — that  is  a  duty  of  gratitude — but  let  us 
thank  Him,  too,  for  the  trial  He  sends  us  in  permitting 
that  instead  of  three  Sisters  whom  you  are  expecting,  I 
come  alone — alone  with  all  my  incapacity,  with  all  my 


LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK       161 

miseries.  I  adore  His  designs  without  understanding 
them.  Our  Savior  is  so  good;  it  would  truly  be  un- 
worthy in  us  if  we  let  ourselves  be  displeased  when  He 
does  not  act  according  to  our  desires.  When  we  meet 
I  shall  tell  you  all  that  He  has  done  for  me,  and  you 
will  impart  to  me  what  He  has  done  for  you.  How 
happy  we  shall  be  to  speak  together  of  Him !  We  are 
going  to  love  Him  and  to  please  Him  in  everything— 
Him,  who  has  chosen  us  from  all  eternity  for  the  beau- 
tiful mission  of  Indiana.  After  my  existence,  I  love 
nothing  so  much  as  my  vocation,  or  rather,  I  love  my 
dear  vocation  more  than  life  itself,  since  to  preserve  the 
one  I  ardently  hope  to  exhaust  the  other.  How  happy 
we  shall  be  to  die,  saying  with  Saint  Peter,  "Lord  Jesus, 
You  see  that  we  have  left  all  for  You." 

Dear  Mother,  I  must  tear  myself  away  from  these 
sweet  thoughts,  for  they  make  me  forget  what  I  in- 
tended to  say  to  you. 

I  have  seen  good  Mr.  Beyerly,  and  his  wife,  also,  who 
feels  great  joy  in  being  a  Catholic.  She  believes  it  is 
to  your  prayers  she  owes  this  grace.  How  happy  you 
are  thus  to  repay  your  benefactors.  Madame  Parmen- 
tier  is  to  return  from  the  country  next  week.  I  am  to 
have  the  honor  of  seeing  her.  Everybody  says  count- 
less good  things  about  her.  I  shall  deliver  your  com- 
missions to  all,  everywhere.  There  is  a  Miss  K 

here,  a  postulant  at  the  Sacred  Heart ;  her  elder  brother 
accompanied  you  last  year  and  he  retains  a  vivid  re- 
membrance of  you.  She  recognized,  by  my  Habit,  that 
I  belonged  to  the  same  Order  as  you.  Dear  Habit! 
It  cost  me  much  to  leave  it  off  during  the  voyage.  The 
month  I  am  to  spend  here  I  shall  wear  it,  and  then,  alas ! 
October  15 — My  God,  may  Your  holy  will  be  done  on 
earth  as  it  is  in  heaven! — I  will  try  at  least  to  be  a  re- 
ligious in  spirit.  For  this  intention  I  shall  on  Wednes- 
day evening  begin  a  retreat,  in  which  the  good  God  will 
have  to  be  my  preacher,  my  extraordinary  confessor,  my 
director,  in  a  word,  everything.  One  of  the  religious 
here  will  have  the  kindness  to  conduct  me  through  the 


162       LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK 

Exercises.  The  good  Savior  for  whom  I  undertake  this 
work  will  direct  it,  and  to  Him  alone  will  be  the  glory, 
for  the  chaplain  can  speak  neither  English  nor  French. 
My  health,  which  for  a  long  time  has  been  so  dragging, 
seems  willing  to  second  my  desire.  I  am  incomparably 
stronger  since  the  13th,  when  I  arrived.  I  can  meditate 
an  hour  uninterruptedly  without  getting  a  headache. 

My  thoughts,  more  rapid  than  the  steamboat,  often 
go  to  visit  you  at  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods.  I  offer 
myself  to  you;  I  speak  of  the  happiness  I  experience 
in  rinding  myself,  at  last,  where  God  has  called  me  from 
the  beginning.  I  make  acquaintance  with  my  new 
Sisters,  I  embrace  and  find  the  same  old  companions. 
I  distribute  all  the  good  wishes  that  France  sends  you. 
Edified  at  the  piety  and  devotion  of  all,  I  am  ashamed 
at  coming  too  late  and  having  no  share  in  your  first  pri- 
vations, but  we  look  up  to  heaven  and  say,  "God  has 
willed  it  thus.  May  His  will  be  forever  blessed !"  Oh, 
yes,  may  He  be  forever  blessed !  I  came  when  He  sent 
me,  and  because  He  sent  me.  Dear  Holy  Obedience! 
We  shall  speak  of  thee,  and,  although  at  the  moment 
thou  mayest  seem  to  us  a  little  harsh,  we  will  love  thee 
and  respect  thee  always. 

In  the  letter  brought  by  Mr.  Beyerly,  who  came  out 
to  the  boat  to  meet  me,  I  recognized  your  whole  heart. 
The  air  of  America  has  not  changed  it.  In  attachment 
and  gratitude,  mine  is  the  same  as  you  knew  it.  Let 
us,  then,  give  without  reserve  to  our  beloved  Jesus  these 
hearts  of  ours,  which  He  has  made  so  expressly  to  love 
Him.  I  shall  tell  you  of  an  indescribable  grace  which 
my  good  Savior  has  vouchsafed  me,  and  you  will  see 
whether  I  could  now  refuse  Him  anything. 

Of  course,  I  expect  to  find  crosses  at  Vincennes. 
Until  now,  that  is  to  say,  since  the  8th  of  August,  I  do 
not  know  where  pain  and  contradiction  have  gone.  I 
am  ashamed  to  be  so  happy.  I  am  here,  as  it  were,  at 
the  gate  of  paradise — a  delightful  house,  preventing  and 
affectionate  attentions  from  the  religious,  and  the  pres- 
ence of  our  good  and  adorable  Jesus  whom  I  may  visit 


LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK       163 

at  any  moment.     I  must,  indeed,  be  very  weak  to  be 
treated  thus. 

I  beg  you  to  continue  your  prayers;  I  am  an  abyss 
of  misery.  I  absorb  in  myself  all  the  grace  you  had 
intended  for  three.  My  beloved  Sisters,  I  shall  meas- 
ure your  love  by  your  prayers.  Remember,  for  two 
years  I  have  been  sending  mine  to  this  dear  mission 
with  many  little  sacrifices  which  I  made. 

I  expect  to  leave  New  York  the  15th  of  October  with 
Madame  Gallitzin,  who  will  leave  me  at  Cincinnati. 
Adieu,  dear  Mother, 

Your  respectful  and  most  devoted 

Sister  Francis  Xavier. 

To  HER  SISTER  PEPA 

At  the  Sacred  Heart,  33  Housatonic  Street, 

New  York,  October  3,  1841. 

At  last  I  am  in  New  York,  my  dear  Pepa.  Having 
crossed  the  great  ocean,  I  am  already  far  advanced  on 
my  way.  To-morrow  I  shall  probably  continue  my 
journey.  Doubtless  you  will  pray  for  me.  I  need 
prayers  for  an  undertaking  so  much  above  my  strength. 
Every  one  who  sees  me  so  feeble  and  alone  says  in  a 
low  tone,  "How  could  they  send  this  child  so  far  with- 
out any  one  to  take  care  of  her?"  I  never  pretend  to 
hear  this,  but  turning  towards  the  chapel,  I  say:  My 
God,  is  any  one  alone  when  You  are  with  her?  If  I  did 
not  belong  to  You,  my  journey  would  be  foolish;  but 
belonging  to  You,  distrust  would  be  blasphemy,  for  then 
I  should  doubt  either  Your  goodness  or  Your  power. 
Pepa,  I  am  more  afraid  of  a  little  feeling  of  distrust 
than  of  all  the  dangers  of  land  and  sea. 

In  this  city  I  found  those  good  friends,  Messieurs 
Beyerly  and  Parmentier,  who  have  rendered  so  much 
assistance  to  our  Sisters  at  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods. 
They  offered  me  their  home,  thinking  themselves  un- 
worthy of  my  accepting.  I  prefer  being  at  the  Sacred 
Heart  to  any  place  else,  but  I  should  consider  myself 
very  much  honored  to  stay  with  such  fervent  Catholics. 


164       LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK 

I  declined,  however.  I  live  here  exactly  as  in  a  com- 
munity in  France.  I  go  from  my  room  to  the  chapel, 
from  the  Chapel  to  the  refectory,  from  the  refectory  to 
the  recreation  room,  where  I  find  very  amiable,  cheerful, 
and  perfect  religious,  though  very  much  exposed;  for 
here  they  must  live  as  people  in  Brittany  would  who 
have  an  annual  income  of  forty  thousand  francs.  The 
house  is  superb;  everywhere  carpets  and  mahogany 
doors  with  silver  locks.  I  thank  God  for  having  de- 
livered me  from  all  this  grandeur.  The  city,  they  say, 
is  magnificent;  they  tell  me  of  the  activity  of  trade,  of 
the  beautiful  edifices,  of  the  cleanliness  of  the  streets; 
but  I  do  not  allow  myself  to  be  tempted  to  see  these 
curiosities.  I  have  found  a  little  balcony  overlooking 
an  old  court  where  the  poor  and  the  pigs  dwell,  and 
there  I  go  to  recreate  myself.  I  feel  so  great  a  need  of 
seeing  cabins  of  the  poor;  and  these,  indeed,  are  truly 
poor  people,  although  they  wear  hats.  Here  everybody 
wears  a  bonnet  of  some  kind,  either  silk  or  cotton,  ac- 
cording to  her  means,  but  everybody  has  not  shoes,  and 
the  children  go  about  in  their  chretiente. 

My  health  is  very  good.  I  eat  well,  and  I  have  ac- 
customed myself  to  find  a  dish  of  raw  vegetables  good. 
But  the  corn  and  the  oyster  soup  disagree  with  me. 

Mother  Theodore  made  a  very  favorable  impression 
in  New  York.  Mr.  Beyerly  and  all  who  had  any  inter- 
course with  her  esteem  her  very  much.  She  certainly 
has  extraordinary  ability  and  the  gift  of  making  herself 
loved  wherever  she  goes.  She  is  a  second  edition  of 
yourself.  You  were  told  she  was  ugly;  nevertheless, 
Miss  Kennedy  told  me  that  last  year  her  brother,  after 
he  had  seen  Mother,  said,  "I  have  never  met  such  a 
woman";  and  remember,  he  does  not  know  a  word  of 
French,  and  she  speaks  dreadful  English.  If  I  were 
at  Ruille  we  would  laugh  again  at  her  attempts,  which 
always  afforded  Mother  Mary  great  amusement. 

I  have  just  read  the  life  of  Saint  Ignatius.  Tell 
Cecile  to  read  it;  nothing  can  be  more  interesting  than 
his  history.  I  am  indeed  ashamed  to  have  waited  so 


LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK       165 

long  to  know  the  friends  of  God.  During  my  retreat 
I  shall  try  to  forget  the  world  entirely  that  I  may  under- 
stand the  value  of  souls.  Who  am  I,  to  be  called  to 
gain  them  to  Jesus  Christ? 

When  you  write  to  Marie,  tell  her  it  was  not  from 
indifference  that  I  failed  to  see  her  at  Rennes;  but  hav- 
ing need  of  so  many  graces,  I  feel  the  necessity  of  pre- 
paring for  them  by  sacrifice.  I  passed  through  Mor- 
laix  and  Dinan  without  going  to  see  Charles  and 
Alphonse.  I  was  only  six  leagues  from  Saint  Meen, 
and  I  did  not  ask  to  go  to  embrace  my  dear  Paul.  I  do 
not  repent  of  these  little  privations  which  I  imposed 
upon  myself,  for  I  tremble  when  thinking  what  my  life 
ought  to  be.  Mother  Theodore  told  me  in  her  letter 
that  there  is  immense  good  to  do,  but  that  we  must  be 
saints.  Our  chaplain,  Abbe  Buteux,  is  an  angel,  she 
says.  What  a  shame  for  me,  what  a  misfortune,  if  I 
spoil  this  mission! 

Madame  Sallion  and  the  Princess  Gallitzin,  a  woman 
as  unassuming  as  she  is  amiable  and  learned,  will  start 
to-morrow  for  Canada.  They  will  spend  eight  days 
there;  then,  on  the  15th  of  October,  we  shall  leave  for 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  O  my  dear  sister,  what  an 
abyss  of  mercy!  Follow  me  there,  working  with  all 
your  strength  to  contribute  to  the  glory  of  God.  The 
Ladies  of  the  Sacred  Heart  are  only  beginning  their 
establishment  here ;  their  classes  opened  the  first  of  June. 
If  I  had  arrived  before  them,  I  should  not  have  found 
our  good  Savior  Jesus  in  their  pretty  chapel. 

Abbe  de  Goesbriand  crossed  the  ocean  last  year  with 
Madame  de  Gallitzin.  Captain  Pell  told  me  he  never 
before  saw  such  modesty  and  candor  as  his  on  a  human 
countenance. 

Despite  the  exceptional  weather  that  Our  Lord 
granted  the  little  colony  which  left  Havre  for  New  York 
on  board  the  Iowa,  Sister  Saint  Francis  suffered  greatly 
from  seasickness  and  had  a  most  painful  voyage.  She 
went  to  Confession  every  day,  believing  herself  on  the 


166       LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK 

point  of  appearing  before  her  Judge.  She  was  not 
alone  in  this  opinion.  One  day  when  the  Ladies  of  the 
Sacred  Heart  had  left  her  as  if  dead  in  her  cabin,  she 
overheard  a  discussion  between  the  superior  and  the 
captain  as  to  what  should  be  done  with  her  body. 
After  some  weeks  when  her  health  became  better,  she 
could  not  go  to  enjoy  the  air  on  deck  without  being 
carried  there  by  her  charitable  companions;  and  her 
strength  was  so  exhausted  when  she  reached  New  York 
that  it  seemed  impossible  for  her  to  make  a  journey  of 
over  nine  hundred  miles  to  her  final  destination.  Ma- 
dame Gallitzin,  who  had  with  so  much  kindness  re- 
ceived her  into  the  convent  at  New  York,  was  to  go  first 
to  Canada  and  then  to  St.  Louis  to  visit  the  different 
establishments  of  her  Order.  She  proposed  to  take 
Sister  Saint  Francis  with  her,  so  that  she  could  have  the 
rest  which  was  so  necessary  for  her  at  the  different 
stopping-places  of  the  journey.  This  plan  was  grate- 
fully accepted  and  Irma  had  already  spent  several  weeks 
at  the  Sacred  Heart  awaiting  Madame  Gallitzin's  de- 
parture, when  Abbe  Bellier  and  the  girl  from  Rennes 
arrived  in  New  York.  They  were  going  directly  to 
Vincennes,  and  Irma's  ardent  desire  to  be  reunited  with 
the  Sisters  of  Providence  caused  her  to  alter  her  plans 
and  to  avail  herself  of  the  protection  of  this  estimable 
priest. 

In  the  last  letter  Irma  wrote  from  New  York  to  her 
family,  she  said: 

New  York,  October  10,  1841. 

O  my  dear  father,  if  you  knew  the  watchfulness  of 
Providence  over  your  child,  you  would  not  be  in  the  least 
uneasy.  God  always  selects  persons  who  are  extremely 
kind  to  me;  I  need  mention  only  our  excellent  friends, 
Messieurs  Beyerly  and  Parmentier.  One  seems  to  see 


LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK       167 

in  them  the  characters  of  the  book  "Lorenzo" ;  only  these 
are  living  and  real.  They  are  greatly  attached  to 
Mother  Theodore,  whose  acquaintance  they  made  when 
she  passed  through  here,  and  they  will  not  die  satisfied 
until  they  have  visited  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods  and 
have  again  seen  their  dear  Sisters  of  Providence  (whom 
they  have  loaded  with  kindness) . 

I  had  the  happiness  of  making  a  retreat  during  my 
stay  at  the  Sacred  Heart.  One  of  these  excellent  re- 
ligious traced  the  plan  for  me,  but  I  was  under  the 
immediate  direction  of  God,  for  the  confessor  of  the 
community  knows  neither  English  nor  French.  This 
good  Savior  Jesus  was,  then,  my  Guide,  my  Instructor. 
How  I  prayed  for  you!  But  when  I  think  that,  like 
myself,  you  possess  Him  in  the  Eucharist,  I  do  not  know 
what  can  be  wanting  to  you,  except  the  knowledge  of 
your  riches.  I  have  continued  here  my  community  life, 
begun  on  the  ocean  with  these  good  religious.  Our 
house  is  in  the  center  of  the  city  and  has  no  garden.  As 
carriages  are  passing  constantly  we  hear  a  great  deal 
of  noise.  The  rent  is  eight  thousand  francs  a  year ;  and 
Madame  Gallitzin  paid  twenty  thousand  francs  for  re- 
pairs on  entering  the  house.  My  health  is  better  and  I 
manage  very  well  with  the  American  cooking.  They 
make  soup  of  everything — barley,  oysters,  etc.,  and  a 
dish  with  few  things — carrots,  onions,  and  raw  tomatoes ; 
our  gormands  of  Brittany  would  prefer  something  more 
substantial. 

Madeleine  and  I  shall  leave  on  the  16th  with  good 
Abbe  Bellier,  who  knows  the  country  well  and  who 
seems  to  be  a  man  not  easily  embarrassed.  Last  eve- 
ning I  laughed  to  myself  on  thinking  of  his  physiog- 
nomy and  his  petulance ;  he  speaks  with  a  volubility  that 
renders  me  mute.  They  say,  however,  that  he  is  a  very 
interior  man.  When  I  receive  absolution  I  shall  make 
an  act  of  faith  before  an  act  of  contrition,  and  all  will 
be  for  the  best.  Perhaps  it  is  only  the  joy  of  being  on 
land  again  which  affects  him  thus ;  for  these  Ladies  and 
I  remember  having  experienced  something  of  the  same 
sort  on  arriving  at  New  York. 


168  LETTERS  FROM  NEW  YORK 

Good-by,  my  dear  father.  I  hope  your  health  will 
become  daily  better.  I  ask  for  you  something  that 
seems  to  me  still  better  than  health, — the  love  of  suffer- 
ings. Be  kind  enough  to  distribute  my  love  and  re- 
membrances to  all  our  dear  relatives,  beginning  with 
grandmother  and  ending  with  Olivier.  Ask  them  all  to 
pray  for  me. 


CHAPTER  II 

JOURNEY   FROM   NEW   YORK  TO   SAINT   MARY-OF-THE- 
WOODS — FIRST  LETTERS   FROM   INDIANA 

/ 

ABBE  BELLIER,  the  two  seminarians  who  ac- 
companied him,  Madeleine  and  Sister  Saint 
Francis  spent  nearly  a  month  in  their  journey 
from  New  York  to  Vincennes.  In  1841  it  required  that 
length  of  time  to  accomplish  a  trip  which  to-day  can  be 
made  in  one  day. 

At  Columbia  they  embarked  on  an  old  canal-boat  to 
ascend  the  river  along  the  Allegheny  Mountains.  Here 
Irma  finally  commenced  the  life  of  privations  and 
poverty  she  had  so  ardently  longed  for.  Sacks  of  coffee 
piled  together  formed  the  beds  and  benches  of  the  boat, 
and  often  a  passenger's  limb  was  caught  among  them 
and  extricated  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty.  No 
provisions  of  any  kind  being  supplied,  the  travelers  had 
to  leave  the  boat  to  procure  whatever  food  they  could  in 
the  villages  through  which  they  passed.  Table  utensils 
and  dishes  were  things  unknown,  and  for  all  the  passen- 
gers they  had  but  one  drinking  glass.  Abbe  Bellier  had 
the  politeness  to  decide  that  Madame  le  Fer  (thus  they 
called  Sister  Saint  Francis  during  the  voyage)  should 
drink  first,  and  Monsieur  Tumoine,  one  of  the  semina- 
rians, last. 

The  following  letter  relates  the  end  of  her  voyage, 
her  arrival  at  Vincennes  and  later  at  Saint  Mary-of- 
the- Woods.  Henceforth  Sister  Saint  Francis'  corre- 
spondence with  her  family  will  be  dated  from  the  latter 

169 


170  JOURNEY  TO  INDIANA 

place,  where  Providence  destined  her  to  spend  fourteen 
years  in  the  practice  of  religious  virtues  and  in  the  labors 
of  a  fervent  missionary.  She  will  leave  her  dear  com- 
munity only  to  receive  the  reward  promised  to  the  good 
and  faithful  servant.  On  her  death  bed,  we  shall  hear 
her  repeat  her  hymn  of  gratitude,  "So  much  happiness, 
O  my  God,  and  for  so  little  1"  But  let  us  not  anticipate 
events.  The  reader  who  has  followed  the  young  French 
woman  thus  far  will  be  doubly  interested  in  the  fervent, 
zealous  missionary  of  Indiana. 

To  HER  MOTHEE 

Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods,  Nov.  17,  1841. 
My  dearest  mother,  at  last  I  am  at  Providence  of 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  Now,  more  than  ever,  I  can 
say,  "I  believe  in  God,  the  Father  Almighty!"  Yes,  I 
believe  in  the  power  of  God,  for  He  has  brought  me  here 
in  spite  of  many  obstacles.  But  I  believe  especially  in 
His  love,  which  watched  so  constantly  over  me  on  the 
way.  Not  even  the  slightest  accident  happened  to  me. 
The  weather  was  nearly  always  pleasant  and  the  rivers 
high  enough  for  the  boats  to  ascend.  Heaven  and  earth 
seemed  to  agree  in  facilitating  my  arrival.  True,  from 
Columbia  to  Pittsburgh  we  were  rather  uncomfortable 
on  the  boat  going  up  the  canal  along  the  AUeghenies. 
Our  salon  and  cabin  was  but  a  space  between  decks, 
filled  with  sacks  of  coffee  among  boxes  and  trunks. 
Our  first  night  was  so  bad  that  a  German  nobleman  left 
the  boat,  preferring  to  lose  the  price  of  his  passage. 
One  of  his  countrymen  remained  with  us,  a  good  rustic 
(and  an  excellent  apple-thief),  who  had  the  happy 
thought  of  closing  the  cracks  of  our  apartment  with 
straw.  After  this  improvement  it  was  rather  com- 
fortable, although  our  only  way  of  entering  our  lodg- 
ings was  the  weasel's.  We  were  obliged  to  plead  against 
an  increase  of  passengers,  as  it  was  certainly  enough  to 
have  seven  of  us  in  such  close  quarters  for  ten  days  and 


JOURNEY  TO  INDIANA  171 

nights.  We  went  from  one  village  to  another  to  buy 
bread  and  meat,  and  our  German  friend  furnished  the 
dessert.  Our  days  were  lengthened  by  a  candle  set  in  a 
big  red  apple.  Abbe  Bellier  would  then  take  his  guitar, 
and  with  his  beautiful  voice  excite  the  admiration  of  the 
passengers.  During  all  this  time  I  had  an  excellent 
appetite.  Our  boat  was  drawn  along  the  banks  of  the 
canal  by  two  old  horses,  which  gave  me  a  chance  to  walk, 
for  I  could  go  faster  than  they.  The  view  along  the 
Allegheny  Mountains  is  very  beautiful,  though  the 
scenery  is  less  varied,  I  think,  than  from  Saint  Servan 
to  Dinan.  We  crossed  these  mountains  by  rail,  though 
without  leaving  the  boat,  as  the  horses  and  boat  were 
placed  on  a  car  and  this  in  turn  taken  on  another  boat. 
It  is  something  inconceivable — the  inventions  one  sees 
here.  But  all  this  will  have  an  end.  Some  day  there 
will  be  no  more  America,  no  more  steam  engines,  but 
there  will  still  be  souls.  Pray  much  for  me,  for  I  am 
called  to  accomplish  something  greater  than  all  the  uni- 
verse. 

I  arrived  at  Vincennes  the  9th  of  November.  The 
remainder  of  the  journey  was  made  by  steamboat,  and  I 
had  a  cabin  for  Madeleine  and  myself.  This  good 
Madeleine  has  rendered  me  many  services  and  she  is 
exactly  what  Father  Besnoin  had  desired  for  me.1 

I  stopped  at  the  house  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  on 
arriving  in  Vincennes,  and  two  minutes  later  I  was  at 
the  feet  of  the  bishop.  O  my  mother,  God  alone  under- 
stands what  then  passed  in  my  heart.  For  my  part  I 
can  say  nothing  of  it ;  all  that  I  know  is  that  I  wept  and 
wept. 

i  We  might  suppose  from  Madeleine's  conduct  during  the  voyage  that 
Father  Besnoin  had  wished  her  to  be  of  a  trying  disposition.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  she  frequently  manifested  an  arbitrary  manner  towards  Sister  Saint 
Francis.  On  one  occasion  she  left  Sister  in  charge  of  some  articles  of  cloth- 
ing she  had  hung  out  to  dry,  while  she  went  ashore  to  make  purchases.  In 
the  meantime  Sister  became  so  interested  in  sketching  a  scene  from  nature 
that  one  of  the  above  mentioned  articles  fell  unnoticed  into  the  canal.  Made- 
leine, on  returning  and  perceiving  the  loss,  seemed  tempted  to  snatch  the 
album  from  Sister's  hand,  as  she  exclaimed  scornfully,  "What  is  the  use  of 
an  education,  if  you  cannot  watch  over  one  pocket  handkerchief?" 


173  JOURNEY  TO  INDIANA 

Six  days  later,  I  heard  in  the  forest  the  bell  at  Provi- 
dence of  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods  sounding  the  Ange- 
lus.  The  bishop  was  walking  and  had  left  me  to  drive 
the  carriage.  I  begged  my  good  Angel  to  hold  the 
reins,  so  that  the  horse  would  not  upset  me.  God 
watched  over  me  and  brought  me  in  safety  to  the  end  of 
my  journey.  A  few  minutes  later  I  was  there — there 
in  the  dear  little  chapel  with  my  Mother  Theodore, 
thanking  our  Lord  Jesus  for  all  His  tender  mercies,  and 
offering  Him  the  remainder  of  a  life  which  belongs  to 
Him  by  so  many  titles. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  see  the  children  of  our  schools, 
this  American  neighbor  that  I  loved  so  much,  as  Cecile 
used  to  say.  The  dear  little  girls  were  pleased  to  see 
me,  but  assuredly  not  so  much  as  I  was  to  see  them.  I 
recommend  them  to  your  prayers.  Only  Our  Lord  can 
render  me  useful  here.  I  must  act  as  if  I  knew  every- 
thing, as  if  I  were  capable  of  everything,  which  is  very 
annoying,  for  I  am  only  a  log  as  to  ability.  From  my 
childhood  I  have  been  told  that  I  was  good  for  nothing ; 
but  to  convince  myself  of  the  truth  of  this  assertion  I  had 
to  make  a  voyage  to  America.  In  vain  I  have  asked 
Our  Lord  to  give  me  order  and  memory.  Fortunately, 
I  have  lost  nothing  of  any  consideration,  and  the  objects 
left  behind  were  personal  souvenirs.  It  seems  I  am  to 
be  truly  poor,  even  in  soul-remembrances,  for  a  few 
miles  from  Terre  Haute  I  lost  my  portfolio,  with  all  the 
letters  from  my  superiors.  I  can  truly  say,  "My  God 
and  my  All!"  How  sweet  these  words  are!  Say  them 
with  me,  and  whenever  the  thought  of  me  afflicts  you, 
remember  that  I  belong  to  God  without  reserve  and  for- 
ever. Since  I  am  His  I  cannot  be  lost,  for  not  one  of 
those  who  have  been  given  to  Him  has  perished.  He 
will  give  me  back  to  you  in  heaven,  and  if  I  fulfill  well 
my  beautiful  vocation  I  shall  not  be  alone.  I  shall 
present  you  my  little  children  of  Indiana  whom  you  will 
have  gained  to  Jesus  Christ  through  me. 

I  feared  that  during  my  absence  they  had  taken  all 
the  poverty;  but,  if  our  Sisters  have  borne  the  greatest 


AT  ST.  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS  173 

part,  some  remains  yet  for  me,  especially  that  poverty 
which  despoils  the  soul,  that  true  poverty  of  will;  for  I 
must  become  an  American,  change  language  and  man- 
ners, and  make  myself  all  to  all  to  gain  all.  More  than 
half  of  our  children  are  not  even  baptized.  The  pre- 
dominant trait  of  their  character  is  pride  and  indepen- 
dence ;  but  when  their  hearts  are  gained  they  will  suffer 
anything  in  order  to  prove  their  devotedness. 

The  extreme  cold  weather  has  not  yet  begun.  Our 
beds  are  still  in  the  little  garret,  but  the  snow  no  longer 
comes  through,  for  the  holes  are  closed.  I  am  at  last  at 
Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  in  this  forest  so  long  desired. 
What  has  now  become  of  my  perplexities,  my  anguishes 
of  last  year?  They  are  all  counted  by  the  Lord:  All 
things  work  together  unto  good  to  those  who  love  God. 

"Sorrow,"  it  has  been  said,  "has  mysteries  and  abysses 
like  the  sea."  How  many  sinking  into  its  depths  believe 
themselves  condemned  to  certain  death,  yet  return  from 
those  depths  with  pearls  and  corals  in  their  hands ! 

Irma's  reflection  applies  very  truly  to  herself.  On 
Mother  Theodore's  departure  the  preceding  year  she 
was  plunged  into  an  ocean  of  sorrow;  but  the  gems  of 
obedience,  of  humble  abandonment,  were  polished  in  her 
hands.  Matured  by  the  experience  of  sorrow,  she  is  now 
more  fitted  to  distribute  precious  gifts  among  the  in- 
habitants of  the  new  land  which  finally  claims  her  as  its 
own. 

To  HER  FRIENDS  MLLES.  DEMOLON 

Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  Indiana. 
You  ask,  dear  friends,  where  our  establishment  of 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods  is  located.  It  is  in  the  for- 
est. Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere  gave  us  the  land,  but  as 
yet  it  is  nearly  all  uncultivated.  The  people  fell  the 
trees,  burn  the  stumps,  and  plant  and  reap.  Of  the 
felled  trees,  log  houses  are  made.  The  nearest  city  is 
Terre  Haute,  at  a  distance  of  about  two  leagues;  but 


174.  AT  ST.  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 

there  are  several  houses  nearer  our  convent.  When  the 
occupants  grow  tired  of  their  location,  they  transport 
their  houses  a  few  hundred  yards  away.  Vincennes  is 
about  twenty-five  leagues  from  us.  Our  forest  is  in- 
deed magnificent.  The  trees  are  gigantic;  wild  vines 
creep  to  their  summits  and  hang  down  in  festoons  to  the 
ground  where,  taking  on  new  life,  they  burst  forth  in  a 
thousand  new  shoots.  Tulip-trees,  magnolias,  and  ca- 
talpas,  loaded  with  their  white  flowers,  bend  gracefully 
to  the  breeze,  and  nothing  can  be  prettier  than  the 
fragrant  snowflakes  they  scatter  about.  They  seem  like 
censers  laden  with  perfumes  and  snowy  clouds,  swing- 
ing before  God  in  the  gigantic  nave  of  a  limitless  temple. 
You  have  heard  of  my  safe  arrival,  and  of  the  truly 
Breton  reception  given  me  on  the  15th  of  November  at 
our  dear  Providence  Convent.  It  will  appear  strange, 
perhaps,  to  you  who  have  never  left  your  dear  Saint 
Malo,  that  I  employ  so  often  the  word  Breton  to  signify 
something  good  and  open-hearted ;  but  if  you  knew  how 
diiferent  other  nations  are  from  the  people  of  that  little 
corner  of  the  earth!  Had  I  time  I  would  sketch  for 
you  something  of  the  manners  of  these  Americans,  so 
calm,  so  cold,  so  thoughtful.  For  though,  like  others 
of  their  sex,  the  women  are  filled  with  vanity  and  child- 
ishness, their  exterior  is  very  different.  The  other  day 
I  was  thinking  that  if  Pepa  had  come  here  in  her  young 
days  she  would  have  been  shown  in  the  large  cities  as  a 
curiosity;  for  even  I  pass  for  a  marvel  of  politeness. 
In  this  country,  hearts  are  as  cold  as  the  winters.  I 
scarcely  know  how  to  thank  God  enough  for  giving  me 
a  Breton  superior;  for  if  on  leaving  Saint  Servan  I  had 
not  found  such  a  one,  I  do  not  know  what  would  have 
become  of  me,  with  my  straw-fire  fervor.  But  God  to 
whom  I  had  given  myself  took  care  of  me,  and  continues 
daily  to  do  so.  ...  No,  we  do  not  sufficiently  appre- 
ciate the  grace  of  being  Catholics,  and  of  being  born  in 
a  pious  province  like  Brittany.  How  could  they  love 
God — these  poor  people  of  Indiana — since  they  never 
knew  Him? 


BISHOP  BRUTE  AND  FATHER  CORBE         175 

The  other  day  at  Mass  I  was  near  a  lady  who  had  just 
come  from  Holy  Communion.  I  looked  into  her  book 
and  she  was  reading  the  preparation  for  Confession. 
Young  persons  come  to  us  to  be  postulants  who  do  not 
even  know  the  Commandments  of  God.  In  the  whole 
diocese  there  was  but  one  Catholic  school.1  You  can 
imagine  the  ignorance  which  exists  here. 

The  diocese  of  Vincennes  is  almost  as  large  as  the  half 
of  France.2  Its  jurisdiction  extends  over  a  part  of 
Illinois  and  all  the  State  of  Indiana.  The  latter  State 
derives  its  name  from  the  Indian  tribes  who  inhabit  it, 
and  whom  the  government  of  the  United  States  is  con- 
stantly crowding  back  towards  the  north  in  order  to  take 
possession  of  their  territory.  The  first  bishop  of  this 
vast  diocese  was  a  Breton,  a  saint,  Monseigneur  Simon 
Brute,  consecrated  by  Bishop  Flaget.  One  priest, 
Father  Lalumiere,  was  appointed  to  assist  him,  and  the 
diocesan  clergy  consisted  of  this  single  ecclesiastic. 
Bishop  Brute  returned  to  France  soon  after  his  con- 
secration and  procured  several  priests  and  levites,  who 
accompanied  him  to  Vincennes  and  became  at  one  and 
the  same  time  his  zealous  co-laborers  and  his  children,  in 
the  tender est  acceptation  of  the  word. 

"I  do  not  wish  my  priests  to  want  for  anything,"  he 
used  to  say.  He  opened  his  house  and  his  heart  to  them, 
but  only  in  the  latter  home  did  they  find  provisions 
which  were  never  exhausted.  The  following  circum- 

1  As  far  back  as  1828  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  Nazareth,  Kentucky,  had 
crossed  the  Ohio  and  opened  a  school  at  New  Albany,  Indiana.     For  reasons 
unstated,  but  easily  surmised,  they  soon  withdrew.    The  one  Catholic  school 
which  the  Sisters  of  Providence  found  in  Indiana  was  an  establishment  in 
the  city  of  Vincennes,  conducted  by  Sisters  of  Charity  from  Emmitsburg, 
who  were  graciously  lent  to  their  former  Chaplain,  Monseigneur  Brute,  now 
Bishop,  until  he  should  be  able  to  procure  a  Sisterhood  that  would  establish 
a  Mother  House  in  his  newly-created  diocese.     The  Sisters  of  Charity  with- 
drew from  the  diocese  in  1843. — Ed. 

2  This  refers  to  the  diocese  when  it  was  first  established  in  1836. 


176        BISHOP  BRUTE  AND  FATHER  CORBE 

stances  of  his  life,  though  well-known,  will  bear  repeti- 
tion. 

Less  than  a  month  before  his  death,  on  a  cold  winter 
day,  Bishop  Brute,  already  sick,  visited  one  of  his 
priests,  Father  Corbe.  The  latter  offered  him  his  bed, 
but  the  bishop  refused.  After  some  contention  on  the 
subject  they  both  lay  down  side  by  side,  and  according 
to  his  custom,  the  bishop  covered  and  protected  his  com- 
panion as  well  as  he  could. 

"Bishop,"  said  the  priest,  "you  are  not  keeping  any 
of  the  covering.  I  have  it  all." 

"Oh!  no,"  replied  the  holy  man  in  his  kind  voice;  "see, 
you  have  only  half." 

During  the  night  he  raised  his  soul  to  God  in  ardent 
prayer.  The  priest  listened  to  him  with  edification,  very 
careful  not  to  interrupt  him.  Soon  he  perceived  the  pre- 
late gently  endeavoring  to  cover  him  more.  Pretending 
to  be  asleep,  he  threw  the  whole  covering  on  the  bishop 
who,  with  the  delicate  attention  of  a  mother  for  her 
child,  tried  to  cover  him  again,  being  extremely  cautious 
not  to  awaken  him.  Again  he  exposed  himself  to  the 
extreme  cold,  and  a  second  time  the  covering  was  thrown 
back  to  him. 

"Ah!  my  brother,"  said  the  bishop,  "you  are  not 
asleep."  The  two  friends  then  laughed  heartily;  for  in 
the  midst  of  this  extreme  poverty  and  complete  privation 
these  holy  souls  were  inundated  with  heavenly  joy  which 
the  least  circumstance  caused  to  overflow. 

"I  was  afraid  you  would  take  cold,"  said  the  bishop, 
"and  I  thought  I  might  awaken  you  by  kindling  the 
fire." 

"But  what  of  yourself,  Bishop?" 

"Oh!"  said  he,  "an  old  man  like  me  does  not  feel  any- 
thing." 


EARLY  SETTLERS  OF  INDIANA  177 

The  fire  was  rekindled  and  though  it  was  only  three 
o'clock,  the  bishop  did  not  return  to  his  repose  but 
remained  in  meditation  till  the  hour  for  his  depar- 
ture. 

Numerous  emigrants  from  the  various  countries  of 
Europe — Ireland,  France,  Germany,  and  England — 
composed  the  population  of  Indiana.  These  people  be- 
longed to  all  possible  denominations  of  religion,  but  in 
reality  practiced  none.  Regarding  matters  of  faith 
they  were  as  ignorant  as  savages,  but  lacked  their  sim- 
plicity; an  inordinate  desire  for  temporal  goods  made 
them  bring  up  their  children  without  speaking  to  them 
of  God  or  religion,  and  a  great  number  died  before  re- 
ceiving baptism. 

It  was  to  remedy  this  moral  degradation  that  Mon- 
seigneur  de  la  Hailandiere,  successor  to  Monseigneur 
Brute,  had  called  the  Sisters  of  Providence  to  his  diocese 
to  establish  houses  of  education.  They  did  not  do  this 
without  having  much  to  suffer.  The  bishop  had  no 
pecuniary  resources  to  offer  them;  his  unfortunate  di- 
ocesans were  as  poor  as  himself.  The  good  religious 
were  certainly  very  industrious.  They  felled  the  trees, 
cleared  the  land,  and  sowed  seed  in  the  earth  as  well  as 
in  souls.  But  objects  most  indispensable  for  religious 
worship  were  wanting.  Sister  Saint  Francis  remem- 
bered her  friends  in  France  and  appealed  to  their 
generous  piety.  Her  family  were  unable  to  help  her 
greatly ;  yet  we  learn  from  their  correspondence  that  her 
mother  adopted  her  daughter's  numerous  family  as  her 
own,  and  found  means  of  being  useful  to  it.  Silk  gowns 
somewhat  worn,  dolls  called  "French  Brides,"  presents 
of  small  value,  but  bearing  the  French  stamp,  were  sent 
to  serve  as  rewards  of  merit  for  Irma's  pupils  and  to 
excite  their  emulation  in  the  study  of  our  holy  religion. 


178  THE  SISTERS  OF  PROVIDENCE 

To  MONSIEUR  DUPONT 

January  1,  1842. 

Dear  and  Respected  Sir : — God  who  sent  His  angels 
to  conduct  me  from  Le  Mans  to  New  York,  took  care 
of  me  to  the  end,  and  after  a  voyage  of  four  months  I 
arrived  at  last  at  my  dear  Providence  Convent  of  Saint 
Mary-of -the- Woods.  Good  Abbe  Sorin  must  have  told 
you  of  our  journey,  of  our  happiness  at  having  Mass  on 
board.  Oh!  how  grateful  we  are  to  you  for  the  meas- 
ures you  took  at  Havre  to  procure  this  favor  for  us. 
How  often  in  the  course  of  our  long  journey  across  the 
United  States  I  thought  of  you !  How  you  would  have 
suffered  among  all  those  earthly-minded  and  grasping 
men!  How  often,  amid  their  temples  raised  to  all  the 
heresies,  would  you  have  looked  in  vain  for  a  Catholic 
chapel !  But  I  do  not  know  which  is  more  heartrending, 
to  see  none  at  all  or  to  see  such  as  are  found  in  Indiana. 
There  are  neither  lamps  nor  ornaments;  boards  cover 
the  breaks  in  the  windows;  the  priests  wear  vestments 
that  are  in  shreds,  and  often  see  their  unfinished  churches 
sold  because  they  cannot  defray  the  expense  of  con- 
struction. Still,  those  who  know  that  only  six  years  ago 
Indiana  counted  but  one  priest,  and  he  in  prison  for 
debt,  wonder  at  the  progress  of  the  Catholic  religion  and 
rejoice  at  its  success.  But  we  who  have  come  from  a 
community  in  France  sigh  over  such  privations ;  so  I  am 
writing  to  ask  you  for  some  sacred  vessels  for  Our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  There  are  places  where  the  priests  for 
two  years  have  not  been  able  to  say  Mass  for  want  of  a 
suitable  chalice.  When  we  reflect  on  all  this  we  would 
wish  to  be  of  gold,  that  we  might  be  melted  down  and 
fashioned  to  serve  as  a  vase  before  the  majesty  of  God. 
I  am  sure,  dear  Monsieur  Dupont,  that  on  learning 
this  you  will  regret  not  being  rich;  but  speak  to  my 
cousin  Elvire  Payan,  who  promised  to  collect  what  we 
need — a  chalice,  an  ostensorium,  and  also  a  little  incense 
—we  have  only  rosin  to  burn  before  the  altar  of  our 
great  God.  You  would  have  to  come  here  to  know  how 
much  Jesus  has  loved  us  in  instituting  the  Holy  Euchar- 


PROVIDENCE  CONVENT  179 

ist.  For  four  years  He  dwelt  here  in  a  little  cabin 
scarcely  high  enough  for  you  to  stand  erect  in.  Here, 
on  some  boards,  Bishop  Brute  and  his  two  priests  slept 
during  their  missionary  journeys.  Through  respect  for 
Our  Lord,  the  bishop  rested  at  the  door,  notwithstand- 
ing the  cold  and  the  snow.  Through  love  of  suffering 
this  good  bishop  (whom  Vincennes  mourns  whilst  in- 
voking him)  surrounded  his  seal  with  this  touching  de- 
vice, "Where  the  cross  is,  there  is  my  country."  And 
you  know  what  his  native  land  is  to  a  Frenchman,  to  a 
Breton. 

I  beg  you  to  give  news  of  me  to  my  dear  parents,  who 
were  so  happy  to  see  you.  I  thanked  God  sincerely 
for  the  happiness  He  granted  to  you  all,  for  surely  it  is 
a  happiness  to  meet  hearts  that  can  speak  of  their  coun- 
try, their  Father,  and  their  God.  As  for  myself  I  shall 
never  forget  the  night  of  the  sixth  of  August.  One  day 
we  shall  meet  again  near  the  One  we  love.  In  Him  and 
for  Him  I  am  always,  etc. 

To  HER  AUNT  MADAME  DE  LA  SALLE 

Providence  Convent,  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods, 

Jan.  26,  1842. 

Here  I  am  at  this  dear  Providence,  at  this  dear  mis- 
sion of  Indiana  for  which  I  sighed  so  long!  I  have  to 
make  acts  of  faith  in  my  presence  here.  We  shall  be 
much  more  astonished  however  when  we  find  ourselves 
in  heaven. 

As  we  had  delightful  weather  last  Sunday,  I  went  with 
the  postulants  for  a  walk  over  our  grounds.  I  had  not 
yet  seen  the  effect  produced  by  our  little  dwelling  in  the 
midst  of  the  forest.  It  is  very  pretty,  I  assure  you.  I 
joyfully  saluted  the  cross  surmounting  the  little  wooden 
steeple;  and  when  I  thought  of  our  good  Jesus  there 
with  us,  I  felt  myself  still  happy,  even  though  away 
from  you  all  whom  I  love  so  much,  happy  in  the  midst 
of  the  forests  of  Indiana,  among  persons  whose  lan- 
guage is  unknown  to  me,  whose  customs  as  well  as  race 
are  different — some  are  Germans,  others  Irish,  English, 


180  DAY  OF  ARRIVAL 

Americans.  But  in  Jesus  Christ  there  are  neither  Jews 
nor  Hebrews,  Greeks  nor  Gentiles;  and  I  love  all  my 
Sisters  very  tenderly,  although  we  are  strangers.  I  be- 
lieve they  love  me  too. 

Looking  around  me  I  saw  on  all  sides  forests,  limit- 
less, it  seemed  to  me,  as  the  ocean;  near  by,  between 
Providence  and  the  boarding-school,  was  the  ravine 
spanned  by  a  rustic  bridge ;  to  the  south,  the  little  dwel- 
ling of  Father  Paret,1  where  the  faithful  assemble  for 
High  Mass  and  Vespers ;  a  beautiful  blue  sky  overhead ; 
in  the  distance  some  white  crosses,  reminding  us  of  the 
road  over  which  we  must  one  day  pass  to  arrive  at  our 
true  country ;  a  flock  of  birds,  sheep  in  a  meadow  cleared 
by  our  Sisters ;  cows  and  peaceful  oxen,  and,  nearer  the 
house,  dogs  and  chickens.  All  this  mingled  vision  of 
grandeur  and  littleness,  life  and  death,  could  easily  ex- 
cite an  imagination  less  impressionable  than  mine.  But 
to  the  glory  of  the  God  whom  I  serve,  the  God  of 
miracles,  I  can  say  that  at  that  moment  I  thought  of 
Saint  Servan,  of  Lorette,  of  you  all,  and  yet  I  did  not 
weep.  But  when  my  eyes  fell  on  the  poor  little  chapel 
in  which  our  God,  the  God  of  the  universe,  dwells  for 
love  of  us,  ah !  then  my  tears  flowed — tears  of  gratitude. 
What  indeed  have  I  left?  What  have  I  lost?  I  am 
ashamed  to  have  made  so  much  ado  over  so  small  a  sacri- 
fice; for,  in  truth,  is  he  not  rich  enough  who  possesses 
God?  Our  life  is  so  short,  eternity  so  long,  what  mat- 
ters a  little  more  or  less  of  happiness  in  our  exile? 

Dear  aunt,  if  you  have  any  more  material  for  vest- 
ments, the  best  thing  you  can  do  with  it  is  to  send  it  to 
us.  I  should  like  to  show  you  Father  Paret's  soutane ; 
it  is  a  complete  assortment  of  all  kinds  of  black,  having 
about  thirty  pieces,  all  different.  The  other  day  he  was 
obliged  to  put  on  linen  trousers  while  his  own  were  be- 
ing mended.  You  can  imagine  the  condition  of  the  rest 
of  his  wardrobe;  and  still  he  is  regarded  as  a  prince  by 
his  confreres.  We  tried  to  make  him  a  chasuble  with 

i  Chaplain  of  the  community. 


DAY  OF  ARRIVAL  181 

several   pieces   of   silk   sewed   together,   but   without 
success. 

Mother  Theodore  returned  to-day  from  Vincennes 
where  she  has  been  for  five  days.  During  her  absence 
I  was  almost  superior.  Ah!  my  dear  aunt,  I  am  will- 
ing to  suffer  great  cold  and  great  hunger,  but  to  feel  the 
weight  of  one  immortal  soul  upon  my  weakness  makes 
me  tremble.  Pray  much  for  our  poor  postulants ;  some 
of  them  have  not  the  least  idea  of  true  piety.  But,  with 
so  little  religious  assistance,  I  am  astonished  to  find  them 
as  fervent  as  they  are.  Some  of  them  while  living  in 
the  world  were  as  long  as  two  years  without  seeing  a 
priest. 

Again  she  wrote  to  her  family: 

Shall  I  tell  you  of  my  dear  little  boys,  as  poor  and 
ignorant  as  my  boldest  ambition  could  desire?  I  had 
the  happiness  of  teaching  one  that  he  had  a  soul  and 
that  there  is  a  God.  His  father  is  a  German  Catholic, 
his  mother  a  Protestant.  Never  could  my  old  Jean 
Louis  approach  him  in  ignorance.  The  other  day  I 
was  quite  astonished  that  he  knew  three  answers  of  his 
catechism.  I  asked  him  if  his  father,  or  one  of  our 
Sisters  had  taught  him.  "No,"  he  said.  Then  I  saw 
my  little  Simeon  blush  (the  youngest  of  my  pupils)  ; 
so  I  asked  whether  it  was  Simeon.  "Yes,"  he  replied. 
The  dear  little  fellow!  not  yet  six  years  old  and  already 
he  is  a  catechist!  He  had  taught  his  little  schoolmate 
during  recreation,  and  to-day,  as  a  reward,  I  gave  him 
a  pair  of  little  yellow  beads.  If  you  could  only  see  how 
gentle  and  pious  he  is ! 

The  first  time  I  explained  to  them  the  chapter  in  the 
Bible  on  creation  I  asked  the  difference  between  man 
and  other  animals.  Not  one  was  able  to  answer. 
Finally  the  best  pupil,  after  studying  attentively  the 
picture  accompanying  the  text,  replied,  "Sister,  the  dif- 
ference is  that  a  horse  has  four  feet  and  a  man  only 
two." 


182  INDIANA  WEATHER 

In  February,  1843,  she  wrote  to  her  aunt,  Madame 
de  la  Salle: 

Most  of  the  birds  here  are  not  songsters,  and,  though 
there  are  many  red  birds  and  humming  birds,  they  do  not 
sing  as  well  as  your  nightingales.  Even  the  frogs  have 
an  amusing  way  of  croaking,  and  I  believe  my  father 
would  not  now  insist  that  we  have  the  same  pronuncia- 
tion. This  time  last  year  they  had  begun  their  croak- 
ing; but  this  year  they  seem  to  have  no  desire  to  begin. 
It  is  excessively  cold;  everything  is  frozen — even  the 
bread.  When  we  open  the  doors  our  hands  stick  to  the 
locks.  It  is  impossible  to  understand  the  changeable 
weather  of  this  country.  Father  Corbe,1  our  present 
chaplain,  told  us  the  other  day  that  one  Sunday  at  Vin- 
cennes  violent  claps  of  thunder  were  heard  during 
Vespers,  and  after  the  service  a  heavy  rain  fell  detaining 
the  seminarians  in  the  church  about  twenty  minutes. 
On  coming  out  they  found  the  streets  covered  with  ice. 
Four  or  five  men  who  had  been  caught  in  the  rain  had 
their  clothes  and  boots  frozen  upon  them  so  quickly  that 
they  could  not  move  a  step.  Two  of  them  died  on  the 
spot.  Another  gave  such  piercing  cries  that  he  was 
heard  and  rescued  from  his  perilous  position.  Some- 
times a  person's  nose  freezes,  and  it  is  said  that  in  the 
North  there  are  many  persons  who  have  lost  it  thus. 
Father  Corbe  told  us  also  that  in  the  course  of  his  apos- 
tolic journeys  he  once  had  an  ear  frozen,  and  if  a  farmer 
had  not  noticed  it  in  time  he  would  have  lost  it.  Trav- 
elers render  one  another  this  service,  as  the  person  him- 
self does  not  perceive  his  danger. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  ice,  I  love  my  dear  mission 
more  and  more.  The  other  day  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
taking  our  little  boys  to  confession.  I  have  for  some 
time  been  giving  them  catechism  and  Bible-history  les- 
sons. The  greatest  difficulty  for  them  was  not  their 
examination  of  conscience ;  they  were  more  puzzled  over 

i  The  first  chaplain  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods  was  Father  Buteux;  after 
him  Father  Paret.  Father  Corbe  replaced  the  latter  in  1842,  and  was  ec- 
clesiastical superior  of  the  community  from  1844  until  bis  death  in  1879. 


IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS  183 

the  manner  of  kneeling  down  and  joining  their  hands  in 
the  confessional.  Before  going  to  the  chapel  the  eldest, 
having  procured  an  old  comb  and  some  water,  made  the 
toilet  of  all  his  companions.  They  had  never  before 
been  so  well  washed.  I  assure  you,  when  I  saw  them 
kneeling  so  devoutly,  although  some  turned  their  backs 
toward  the  altar,  and  others  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  I 
was  very  much  touched.  One  of  the  smallest  asked 
which  was  more  necessary,  to  remember  his  sins  or  the 
manner  of  making  his  genuflection  before  the  Blessed 
Sacrament;  "for,"  he  added,  "I  cannot  think  of  what 
I  have  to  say  and  at  the  same  time  remember  how  to 
make  my  bow." 

To  HER  FATHER 

Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  April  27,  1842. 

Many  times  since  my  arrival  at  my  dear  mission  I 
have  thought  of  you  and  prayed  for  you.  But  I  have 
not  yet  written,  so  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  sit  down  for 
a  good  chat  with  you.  I  do  not  know  how  it  is,  but  the 
two  thousand  leagues  which  separate  us  seem  no  more 
than  a  meter,  sometimes  even  less,  particularly  when  I 
am  in  the  chapel.  At  times  I  imagine  you  can  hear  all 
that  I  say  to  God,  and  when  I  ask  for  things  a  little 
too  perfect  I  seem  to  hear  you  say,  "My  child,  you  do 
not  know  whether  I  can  bear  that";  and  I  answer, 
"Dear  father,  let  me  alone.  I  have  made  my  arrange- 
ments in  such  a  fashion  that  what  you  cannot  do,  God 
will  do  for  you."  Oh !  how  much  good  it  does  me  to  pray 
for  my  dear  family,  for  I  always  do  it  with  the  con- 
viction that  the  One  to  whom  I  address  so  many  peti- 
tions is  a  thousand  times  more  disposed  to  grant  than 
I  am  to  ask.  The  excellent  news  which  my  mother  and 
sisters  give  is  but  another  proof  of  the  love  of  Jesus 
for  us.  I  have  shared  in  all  your  beautiful  feasts,  and 
I  wish  to  gather  the  fruits  of  them  all,  since  I  cannot 
enjoy  the  flowers. 

What  is  most  necessary  here  is  the  love  of  suffering. 
During  Holy  Week  I  found  the  cross  so  lovable  that 


184  IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS 

it  seemed  to  me  the  greatest  misfortune  would  be  to  live 
without  it.  But,  O  blindness  of  the  human  heart! 
Easter  Tuesday  our  good  Mother  Theodore  fell  very 
ill,  and  it  was  all  I  could  do  to  drag  this  real  cross 
heavily  and  painfully  along.  She  is  not  well  even  yet, 
though  we  are  beginning  to  draw  our  breath  again,  for 
she  is  better.  What  anxiety,  what  distress,  what  an- 
guish I  had!  We  are  awaiting  remedies  from  Saint 
Servan  which  would  have  been  very  useful  during 
Mother's  illness;  good  medicines  and  good  doctors  are 
scarce  here.  They  give  the  name  of  "Doctor"  to  a 
certain  American  who  orders  red-pepper  powders  for  all 
diseases  of  the  throat.  I  do  not  believe  myself  obliged 
to  consider  him  a  doctor. 

In  Indiana  nature  follows  the  same  course  as  in 
France,  but  some  days  are  bizarre.  Thus  in  mid-Feb- 
ruary when  all  the  trees  are  leafless,  there  comes  a  day 
so  warm  that  the  frogs  begin  to  croak,  and  the  birds  to 
sing;  the  fleas  and  mosquitoes  sally  forth,  and  there  are 
electric  storms  and  the  atmosphere  is  so  heavy  one  can 
scarcely  breathe.  Then  the  cold  returns.  This  winter 
God  has  had  pity  on  me;  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
days,  we  have  had  the  same  temperature  as  in  France. 
For  thirteen  years  they  have  not  had  so  mild  a  winter. 
Is  not  this  again  a  great  goodness  of  God  towards  His 
feeble  creature?  My  health  is  very  much  better;  except 
as  to  rising,  I  can  follow  the  rule  exactly.  Sleepiness 
is  a  family  malady.  I  stay  in  bed  until  six  o'clock  with- 
out losing  any  time,  except  in  warring  with  Monsieur 
Mosquito  and  Madame  Flea.  You  and  Pepa  would 
make  beautiful  dialogues  on  the  subject.  I  hope  to 
write  you  a  treatise  on  the  relative  merits  and  demerits 
of  mosquitoes  and  fleas,  and  I  shall  dedicate  it  to  Cecile, 
hoping  to  reconcile  her  with  this  hungry  tribe. 

Our  forest  is  very  beautiful  now;  it  is  almost  equal  to 
Fenelon's  happy  island.  We  have  sugar-trees  from 
which,  if  incisions  are  made  in  the  trunk,  a  delicious 
liquid  flows  out.  The  hens  lay  their  eggs  in  our  beds, 
and  sometimes  even  in  our  caps.  Every  morning  I 


IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS  185 

find  one  on  my  coverlet.  Cows  and  sheep  graze  at  will 
without  any  other  housing  than  the  forest,  where  green, 
yellow,  and  red  birds  sing.  Wood  is  commoner  than 
dust,  and  the  soil  is  so  good  that  a  man  with  a  single 
horse  can  cultivate  it.  Pork  is  two  cents  a  pound;  beef 
idem;  butter  eight  cents;  eggs  are  five  cents  a  dozen; 
but  workmen  charge  so  much  that,  with  all  this  cheap 
living,  we  are  still  very  poor.  We  have  thirteen  very 
nice  pupils;  they  are  beginning  to  like  the  Catholic  re- 
ligion, and  several,  I  hope,  will  be  baptized  soon. 

How  pleased  you  would  be  here  during  the  winter, 
dear  father,  you  who  so  love  good  fires!  You  would 
not  have  to  say,  "Children,  be  sparing  of  the  wood." 
Wood  or  lumber  here  takes  the  place  of  stone  and  mor- 
tar for  buildings.  The  walls  of  our  dwelling  are  only 
half  an  inch  thick;  the  roof  also  is  of  wood.  You  can 
understand  how  very  light  these  houses  are.  When  our 
Sisters  first  established  themselves  here,  and  found  that 
the  Breton  peasants  who  came  with  them  had  built  their 
houses  too  near  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  they  had 
only  to  say,  "Good  people,  move  your  house  away"; 
and  ten  days  later  the  peasants  were  living  several  hun- 
dred feet  farther  off.  There  are  things  here  which  go 
beyond  all  French  ideas.  Nothing  seems  a  hindrance; 
every  man  suffices  for  himself  and  knows  a  little  of  all 
trades. 

To  MADEMOISELLE  ELVIKE  PAYAN 

Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  December,  1842. 

Well,  my  dear  Elvire,  here  I  am  chatting  with  you. 
I  am  not  dead.  Though  in  America  I  love  you  still; 
how  could  I  cease  to  love  you  just  because  I  have  chosen 
a  state  of  perfection?  Do  you  not  remember  that  the 
perfection  of  the  law  is  love?  Hence  the  more  perfect 
I  try  to  become  the  more  I  shall  love  you.  I  am  sure 
you  understand  this  philosophy  well,  for,  as  Abbe  Car- 
donnet  used  to  say,  you  have  acquired  the  science  of  the 
heart. 

You  have  not  been  rash  in  contracting  engagements 


186  IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS 

for  us  with  those  persons  who  have  sent  us  so  many 
things.  As  soon  as  we  learned  of  the  arrival  of  the 
boxes  at  New  York,  we  began  to  pay  our  debts,  and  we 
continue  to  do  so.  I  trust  our  debtors  have  already 
received  something  from  our  payment;  for  whatever 
is  confided  to  God  always  reaches  port,  and  even  more 
promptly  than  by  steamboat. 

Saint  Martin's  eve  our  bishop  consecrated  the  beauti- 
ful ostensorium ;  and  the  first  grace  I  asked  Jesus,  re- 
siding in  this  new  dwelling  which  you  prepared  for  Him, 
was  for  the  inhabitants  of  Tours,  and  for  all  our  good 
friends  in  France  who  by  their  prayers  and  alms  aid  this 
dear  mission  of  Indiana.  I  asked  for  you,  through  the 
intercession  of  Saint  Martin,  a  great  love  for  God's 
holy  will,  that  you  may  say  with  Him,  "I  refuse  neither 
life  nor  death,"  etc.;  but,  above  all,  I  have  asked  that 
you  may  obtain  a  sincere  devotion  to  Jesus  in  the  Holy 
Eucharist.  If  we  really  loved  our  Lord  I  do  not  know 
what  could  give  us  pain.  It  surely  cannot  be  absence 
from  our  friends,  since  we  shall  see  them  again  soon.  It 
cannot  even  be  death,  because  death  for  a  Christian  is 
but  a  sleep;  and,  when  those  whom  we  love  sleep 
peacefully,  we  are  not  sad  because  we  cannot  then  speak 
to  them;  instead,  happy  at  their  repose,  we  wait  for 
their  awakening. 

I  offer  the  affectionate  gratitude  of  the  community 
with  my  own,  to  our  excellent  and  faithful  friend,  Mon- 
sieur Dupont.  It  is  a  great  consolation  to  know  that  in 
France  we  have  brethren  who  are  united  with  us  in 
prayers  and  good  works.  Never  have  we  felt  the  value 
of  the  communion  of  saints  as  since  we  are  in  the 
wilds  of  America.  Sometimes  we  have  been  fifteen 
days  without  Mass,  and  the  priest  nearest  to  us  was 
twenty-two  leagues  distant.  At  these  times  you  were  in 
your  beautiful  cathedral  singing  the  praises  of  our 
Heavenly  Father,  while  we,  His  children  of  the  forest, 
offered  for  you  our  privations  and  solitude.  The  ab- 
sence of  exterior  worship'is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  greatest 
sacrifices  God  has  imposed  upon  me.  To  give  you  an 


IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS  187 

example  of  my  virtue  on  this  point,  I  shall  tell  you  that 
the  other  evening  during  Benediction  I  heard  some  one 
singing  O  Salutaris  Hostia.  Though  I  did  not  recog- 
nize the  voice,  I  knew  it  to  be  French;  later  I  found  it 
was  that  of  a  young  workman  who  arrived  recently. 
I  was  all  in  tears,  not  from  devotion,  but  from  emotion. 
See  how  imperfect  I  am  still. 

To  HER  MOTHEE 

Saint  Mary-of- the- Woods,  December,  1842. 

I  cannot  tell  you,  my  dear  mother,  how  much  good 
your  letters  do  me.  I  always  read  them  and  then  re- 
read them  with  new  pleasure.  I  give  a  share  of  them 
first  to  Mother  Theodore,  then  to  our  Sisters,  and  finally 
to  your  little  girls  who  listen  with  great  attention  to  all 
you  tell  them.  One  of  our  children,  Elizabeth  Foley, 
Mary  Jane's  sister,  whom  I  mentioned  to  Clementine, 
said  to  me,  "I  think  you  wrote  Madame  le  Fer  a  bet- 
ter account  of  us  than  we  deserve ;  for  if  she  knew  how 
faulty  we  are,  she  would  not  like  us  any  more."  An- 
other, a  Miss  Richardson,  remarked,  "If  I  ever  go  to 
France  I  shall  visit  Madame  le  Fer,  who  was  so  kind 
as  to  send  us  some  dresses."  They  are  very  amusing 
when  they  begin  to  draw  for  the  prizes  at  the  end  of  the 
month.  The  Protestants  even  ask  the  Blessed  Virgin 
to  make  them  draw  a  winning  letter.  We  are  much 
pleased  with  them,  for  there  is  a  great  change  in  their 
conduct  this  year.  Our  little  Mary  Jane,  a  charming 
child  of  twelve,  wrote  her  father  for  permission  to  be 
baptized.  He,  however,  told  her  to  reflect  awhile.  The 
young  Misses  Richardson,  who  are  twins,  resembling 
each  other  so  closely  that  I  cannot  distinguish  them, 
are  no  longer  Protestants  in  heart,  but  their  father  will 
not  permit  them  to  become  Catholics  until  they  have 
finished  their  studies.  I  am  inclined  to  be  angry  with 
these  stubborn  parents.  O  my  mother,  how  fortunate 
I  am  to  be  your  daughter!  I  had  to  come  to  America 
to  know  the  extent  of  this  grace. 

I  shall  not  finish  this  letter  until  we  receive  your 


188  IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS 

second  package.  It  ought  to  be  here  now,  for  Mr. 
Beyerly  forwarded  it  several  weeks  ago.  You  cannot 
imagine  what  holy  people  all  our  good  friends  in  New 
York  are.  When  they  learned  that  our  farmhouse  had 
been  burned,  they  made  a  collection  for  us,  to  which  Mr. 
Beyerly  contributed,  although  he  himself  has  failed  in 
business.  He  will  be  obliged  to  move  to  Indiana,  where 
living  is  very  cheap,  and  be,  like  ourselves,  poor. 
Workmen  ask  exorbitant  wages.  One  thing  which  as- 
tonishes me  greatly  is  the  practice  here  of  contracting 
debts.  From  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  every  one  fol- 
lows it.  I  was  amazed  in  New  York  to  hear  the 
bishop  speak  of  his  debts  and  those  of  his  confreres  as 
simply  as  he  might  have  discussed  the  cold  weather. 
Ah!  my  dear  mother,  I  would  rather  accustom  myself 
to  eating  with  my  knife  and  to  speaking  English  than 
to  viewing  this  matter  with  indifference.  Father,  too, 
often  told  us  that  if  we  could  not  afford  to  buy  shoes  we 
should  wear  sabots.  Some  of  our  boarders  also  follow 
the  fashion  and  do  not  pay  us.  After  all,  we  must  take 
things  as  they  are ;  but  we  religious  try  in  every  possible 
way  to  satisfy  both  divine  and  human  justice. 

Since  I  last  wrote  you  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing my  good  traveling  companion,  Father  Sorin.  He 
is  now  near  the  forest  in  the  north  of  the  diocese.  His 
community  has  considerably  increased,  being  now 
twenty  in  number.  Their  poverty  equals  their  virtue; 
nevertheless  they  are  very  happy. 

December  17. 

I  have  just  received  the  kind  letters  you  put  into  the 
box.  As  our  friends  in  New  York  sent  them  to  us  by 
mail,  I  have  announced  to  your  little  girls  the  arrival  of 
the  French  Bride.1  They  hope  it  will  be  here  for  Christ- 
mas. God  blesses  your  endeavors,  for  all  these  little 
presents  produce  wonderful  effects.  We  have  a  class  of 
boys,  and  they  remain  in  the  little  cabin,  a  sketch  of 
which  I  sent  you.  I  cannot  express  what  pleasure  I 

i  One  of  the  dolls. 


IN  THE  EARLY  DAYS  189 

find  in  giving  them  rewards.  They  remind  me  of  my 
dear  children  in  France,  of  whom  I  think  so  often  and 
to  whom  I  send  my  love ;  their  parents  also  have  a  share. 
We  have  also  a  class  of  poor  little  girls.  One  came  yes- 
terday, who,  though  born  of  Catholic  parents,  had  never 
heard  of  God.  Indeed,  it  is  easy  to  find  here  all  the 
characteristics  of  the  vocation  so  well  described  by 
Father  Besnoin.  There  are  boys  fifteen  years  of  age 
who  have  not  yet  made  their  First  Holy  Communion. 
My  heart,  despite  the  ice  which  surrounds  us,  is  not 
cooled;  and,  although  many  things  are  not  what  my 
imagination  had  pictured,  I  am  very  happy  and  I 
tenderly  love  my  dear  mission. 


CHAPTER  III 

MOTHER  THEODORE'S  VISIT  TO  FRANCE — HER  RETURN 
TO  SAINT  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 

SISTER  SAINT  FRANCIS  feared  that  by  ar- 
riving at  Vincennes  a  year  later  than  the  first 
Sisters,  she  would  not  find  in  the  mission  of  Saint 
Mary-of-the- Woods  that  poverty  which  to  her  was  quite 
as  attractive  as  it  is  usually  repugnant  to  people  in  the 
world.  During  the  time  immediately  following  Mother 
Theodore's  departure  for  America,  when  the  Sisters  held 
out  to  Irma  the  hope  of  some  day  rejoining  her  in 
Indiana,  she  had  said,  "Alas !  I  shall  arrive  too  late ;  our 
Sisters  will  have  taken  all  the  poverty."  God,  who 
knew  her  desires,  willed  her  to  have  a  large  portion  of 
the  treasure  she  so  much  esteemed.  The  house  was  not 
finished  when  she  came  to  America;  the  Sisters  still 
lodged  in  the  garret,  and  Irma  shared  in  all  their  daily 
privations.  At  the  end  of  a  year,  however,  their  dwell- 
ing was  almost  completed;  but,  before  arranging  a 
shelter  in  it  for  themselves,  they  had  opened  classes 
there  for  students,  who  were  first  received  in  July,  1841. 
The  following  year  the  Sisters  founded  houses  at  Jasper 
and  Saint  Francis ville,  where  they  had  been  eagerly  de- 
sired. 

Through  the  efforts  of  the  Sisters,  and  often  by  the 
work  of  their  own  hands,  a  part  of  the  forest  had  been 
cleared  and  put  under  cultivation;  the  harvest  had 
equaled  their  hopes  and  labors,  and  the  abundant  crops, 
carefully  stored  away  in  granary  and  barn,  gave  the 

190 


THE  FIRE  AT  ST.   MARY'S  191 

Sisters  promise  of  a  peaceful  winter.  While  they  were 
thanking  God  for  this  favor,  some  persons  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, who,  out  of  hatred  for  Catholicity,  had  been 
displeased  to  have  the  Sisters  establish  a  house  near 
them,  tried  to  drive  them  away  by  setting  fire  to  the 
building  which  contained  all  the  harvest.  The  barn  was 
a  frame  structure,  and  in  an  instant  it  and  its  contents 
were  a  prey  to  the  flames. 

Notwithstanding  Mother  Theodore's  aversion  for 
debts,  she  had  been  obliged  to  contract  some  in  order  to 
build  the  house ;  after  the  fire,  however,  not  only  was  she 
unable  to  borrow  more  money,  but  her  creditors  hastened 
to  claim  what  was  due  them.  As  the  Community  was 
altogether  unwilling  that  the  young  girls  confided  to 
their  care  should  suffer  the  privations  which  they  them- 
selves endured,  the  Sisters  passed  several  days  in  want 
even  of  bread,  in  order  that  the  food  of  the  pupils  might 
not  be  lessened. 

Of  this  anxious  time,  Sister  Saint  Francis  writes  to 
Mademoiselle  Elvire  Payan: 

You  have  so  little  courage,  my  dear  Elvire,  that  I  do 
not  know  whether  I  should  tell  you  that  our  little  farm- 
house has  been  entirely  destroyed  by  fire.  It  contained 
our  harvest  of  wheat  for  the  winter,  and  all  the  pro- 
visions for  our  cattle.  We  are  now  obliged  either  to  sell 
or  kill  them  to  prevent  their  dying  of  hunger.  I  thought 
of  writing  to  Monsieur  Dupont,  because  he  who  knows 
the  value  of  the  cross  would  thank  God  for  us ;  but  had 
I  not  first  let  you  know  our  misfortunes,  you  would  have 
said  I  treat  you  as  a  weak  soul.  Well,  give  thanks  to 
God,  since  He  deigns  to  try  us.  After  the  fire  we  were 
three  days  without  bread,  and  yet  my  health  is  better 
than  in  France.  American  potatoes?  are  excellent ;  and, 
besides,  God  can  perform  miracles  for  the  stomach  as 
well  as  for  the  heart. 


192  THE  "UNIVERS" 

Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere  was  unable  to  help  the 
Sisters.  Mother  Theodore,  aware  of  his  poverty,  would 
not  think  of  seeking  aid  from  him  in  her  distress.  Still, 
resources  the  Sisters  must  have  in  order  to  continue  the 
work  which  neither  they  nor  Mother  Theodore  herself 
for  a  single  moment  thought  of  abandoning.  She 
turned  her  eyes  toward  France,  and  the  bishop  approved 
her  project  of  going  there  to  seek  help  for  her  mis- 
sion. He  gave  her  a  letter  of  recommendation,  explicit 
and  very  impressive.  Fortified  by  this  authorization, 
Mother  Theodore  did  not  hesitate  to  undertake  the  long 
journey.  She  entrusted  the  temporal  concerns  of  the 
house  to  hands  more  capable  than  those  of  Sister  Saint 
Francis,  but  to  her  she  confided  the  care  of  souls,  very 
certain  that  she  would  neglect  nothing  to  maintain  the 
religious  spirit  among  the  Sisters. 

Mother  Theodore,  accompanied  by  a  young  novice, 
Sister  Mary  Cecilia,1  who  later  succeeded  her  as  su- 
perior in  America,  reached  France  in  1843.  During  her 
stay  in  Brittany  Mother  Theodore  visited  Irma's 
parents;  not  having  known  her  before,  they  were  very 
happy  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  the  one  who  now 
supplied  their  place  in  regard  to  their  daughter. 

Though  Mother  Theodore  possessed  all  that  could  be 
desired  to  arouse  interest  in  a  work  which  recommended 
itself,  God,  no  doubt  to  try  her,  permitted  that  her  ef- 
forts should  at  first  meet  with  no  satisfactory  result. 
Her  fatigue  was  extreme,  time  was  passing,  and  with 
anxiety  she  asked  herself  whether,  even  without  taking 
for  her  mission  the  help  they  expected,  she  ought  not 
return  to  America,  rather  than  prolong  an  absence  which 

i  Some  one  having  remarked,  at  the  time  of  her  departure,  that  Sister 
M.  Cecilia  would  be  very  lonesome  in  France  without  any  of  her  acquaint- 
ances, Sister  Saint  Francis  answered  quickly,  "Sister  M.  Cecilia  will  not  be 
among  strangers;  she  will  have  our  Lord  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament." 


BENEFACTORS  OF  ST.  MARY'S  193 

seemed  useless,  and  which,  perhaps,  would  prove  prej- 
udicial to  her  establishment.  It  was  under  these  cir- 
cumstances that  God,  who  never  abandons  those  who 
trust  in  Him,  sent  her  unlooked-for  assistance  in  the 
person  of  one  of  the  editors l  of  the  Univers.  He  was 
touched  by  the  sufferings  and  devotedness  of  good 
Mother  Theodore  and  her  daughters,  but  not  having 
much  money  to  offer,  he  gave  her  more  than  alms  by 
placing  his  pen  at  her  service. 

Having  promised  the  influence  of  his  co-laborers,  as 
well  as  contributions  from  their  very  light  purses,  he 
yielded  to  the  lively  impressions  which  he  carried  away 
from  Mother  Theodore's  narrations,  and  gave  an  ac- 
count of  them  to  the  readers  of  the  Univers.  His 
memory  was  faithful,  and  the  two  articles  consecrated 
to  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods  received  a  particular  bene- 
diction and  awakened  general  sympathy.  Although  the 
Univers  at  that  time  had  but  few  readers,  yet  as  Mon- 
sieur Aubineau  himself  said,  the  good  angels  took  care 
to  direct  the  publication  to  all  those  places  where 
Mother  Theodore  could  expect  to  find  help.  Pere  La- 
cordaire  and  Bishop  Forbin-Janson  promised  to  preach 
in  favor  of  the  poor  missionaries  of  Indiana. 

Complete  and  rapid  success  seemed  forthcoming, 
when  a  letter  from  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere  recalled 
Mother  Theodore  to  America.  She  knew  her  departure 
would  crush  her  hopes  and  arrest  the  tide  of  public  favor 
in  her  regard ;  but  obedience  demanded  her  return,  and, 
leaving  her  interests  to  God,  she  set  sail  immediately. 
This  departure  commanded  by  obedience  was  followed 
by  many  disappointments.  On  account  of  his  health, 
Bishop  Forbin-Janson  was  forbidden  by  his  doctors  to 
preach ;  and,  for  some  unknown  reason,  Pere  Lacordaire 

i  Monsieur  Ix'on  Aubineau. 


194  BENEFACTORS  OF  ST.  MARY'S 

could  not  give  the  charity  sermon  which  he  had  promised. 

Fortunately,  Mother  Theodore's  friends  of  the 
Univers  were  not  among  those  whom  absence  renders 
indifferent,  and  they  continued  to  solicit  alms.  Mon- 
sieur Aubineau's  two  articles  were  printed  together  in  a 
pamphlet,  which  kept  alive  and  developed  the  generous 
sympathy  that  they  had  awakened.  Thanks  to  their 
influence,  good  Mother  Theodore  on  leaving  France  had 
twelve  thousand  francs,  which,  however,  was  scarcely 
half  of  what  she  had  judged  necessary.  Other  contri- 
butions followed  her  to  America,  so  that  altogether  the 
amount  resulting  from  her  journey  enabled  her  to  wait 
for  better  days.  She  always  said  that  God  made  use  of 
those  charitable  editors  of  the  Univers  to  continue  her 
growing  work.  The  interest  they  manifested  towards 
her  during  her  stay  in  France  did  not  diminish  after  her 
return  to  America;  they  always  remained  benefactors 
and  friends  of  the  community. 

When  Mother  Theodore's  voyage  to  France  had  been 
decided  upon,  Irma  announced  the  fact  to  her  mother  in 
a  letter  from  which  the  following  is  quoted: 

April  20,  1843. 

How  fortunate  you  will  be,  my  dear  mother,  through 
the  misfortune  which  obliges  us  to  be  separated  from 
our  dear  superior!  I  can  almost  forget  my  sacrifice  in 
thinking  of  your  joy,  for  you  will  see  that  one  can  re- 
turn from  the  other  world.  You  can  speak  of  me  with 
one  to  whom  you  permitted  me  to  give  my  heart.  Dur- 
ing Mother  Theodore's  stay  at  Saint  Servan  you  will 
interest  yourself  in  our  work.  Ask  God  to  inspire  you 
with  the  words  and  means  of  success. 

In  a  subsequent  letter  Irma  says:  "I  am  not  sur- 
prised that  you  found  our  Mother  so  perfectly  according 
to  your  liking;  rarely  are  so  many  qualities  united  in  the 


MOTHER  ST.  CHARLES  195 

same  person  to  such  a  degree.     Mother  says  that  she,  in 
her  turn,  could  not  leave  you  without  regret." 

To  MOTHER  SAINT  CHARLES 

August,  1843. 

When  you  receive  this  letter,  good  Mother,  you  shall 
have  probably  received  the  charge  of  Superior  General. 
Sometimes  I  incline  to  pity  you.  But  I  prefer  to  pray 
to  God  for  you.  He  is  so  good  that  it  would  be  very 
ungrateful  in  us  not  to  make  up  our  minds  to  serve  Him 
in  the  place  He  gives  us.  I  often  recall  what  you  re- 
peatedly said  to  us  in  the  "Little  Wood,"  namely,  that 
we  ought  to  prefer  God's  glory  to  the  sweetness  of  His 
consolations.  We  can  now,  both  of  us,  apply  the  lesson 
to  ourselves.  ...  I  have  good  news  for  you.  The 
glory  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  is  the  subject.  I  am  going 
to  copy  in  full  the  letter  received  from  Miss  Parmentier. 
Here  it  is : 

"August  15th,  N.  Y. 

"If  I  postponed  writing,  my  dear  Sister,  it  was  to 
give  you  some  details  about  a  favor  of  which  you  have 
been  the  instrument.  Do  you  remember  while  you  so- 
journed in  New  York  you  lent  me  a  book  of  the  Arch- 
confraternity  of  Our  Lady  of  Victory?  You  told  me 
that  if  I  wrote  to  Pere  Desgenettes,  I  could  be  a 
member.  I  followed  your  advice,  after  first  speaking 
about  it  to  our  parish  priest,  who  asked  me  to  inform 
Pere  Desgenettes  that  he  also  desired  to  be  aggregated. 
Pere  Desgenettes  sent  a  diploma  for  our  Saint  Paul's 
Church,  named  Father  Varela  vice  president  with  au- 
thority to  establish  branches  in  the  New  York  diocese. 
And  now,  thanks  to  you,  my  whole  family,  and  I  might 
say  all  the  people  present  at  the  ceremony,  had  the  hap- 
piness of  having  their  names  enrolled  in  the  Archcon- 
fraternity." 

To  you,  my  dear  Mother  Saint  Charles,  they  owe  in 
part  this  inestimable  favor;  for  it  was  you  who  sug- 
gested to  me  a  great  zeal  for  the  Heart  of  our  Immacu- 


196  MADAME  PARMENTIER 

late  Mother.  Let  us  rejoice  then  together.  Oh!  yes, 
let  us  rejoice  for  the  merciful  tenderness  of  Jesus  and 
Mary.  You  know  how  our  dear  God  has  wounded  my 
heart.  You  know  of  the  sufferings  and  trials  which  sur- 
round our  future.  When  I  complain,  my  courage 
weakens,  so  I  try  to  rejoice  in  God  my  Savior.  My  life 
will  probably  not  last  very  long  .  .  .  and  heaven  is  near. 
I  am  completely  ignorant  of  the  destiny  of  this  dear 
Congregation  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods.  It  is  for 
you  to  decide  our  fate. 

We  gave  Mother  Theodore  an  exact  report  of  what 
took  place  with  our  bishop.  I  do  not  know  if  he  wrote 
to  the  Bishop  of  Le  Mans.  Now  is  the  time  to  repeat  a 
thousand  times  a  day,  In  manus  tuas,  Domine.  I  think 
continually  of  our  poor  dear  Mother  Theodore,  who 
has  so  much  desired  to  be  useful  to  our  Congrega- 
tion in  America.  This  blow  will  be  terrible.  Fiat! 
Fiat,  O  my  God!  They  can  separate  the  Communities, 
but  no  man  will  ever  be  able  to  separate  hearts  that  love 
each  other  in  God. 

To  MADAME  PAKMENTIER 

November  20,  1843. 

Although  we  have  no  assurance  that  our  dear  Mother 
Theodore  will  arrive  by  way  of  New  York,  we  do  not 
wish  to  leave  her  in  any  anxiety  regarding  her  family 
of  Saint  Mary's.  We  ask  you  then  kindly  to  hand  her 
this  letter  and  to  embrace  her  very  tenderly  for  us,  until 
we  can  do  it  ourselves.  Good  Father  Lalumiere  would 
be  very  much  pleased  to  see  you  arrive  at  Terre  Haute 
with  Mother  Theodore  and  Sister  Cecilia.  I  know 
others  who  would  share  his  joy,  but  I  must  not  think  too 
much  of  it,  for  perhaps  it  is  not  the  will  of  God.  We 
have  heard  nothing  of  the  dear  Beyerly  family.  Father 
Sorin  wrote  the  other  day,  but  did  not  say  whether  he 
has  the  consolation  of  having  our  virtuous  friends  with 
him.  The  religious  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Lake  are  re- 
newing the  fervor  of  the  first  ages  of  the  Church;  all 
who  are  witnesses  of  their  piety  are  edified  at  it.  We 


FEAST  OF  ST.  FRANCIS  XAVIER  197 

shall  have  some  little  share,  I  hope,  in  so  many  prayers 
and  good  works. 

We  shall  write,  I  think,  to  Mother  at  Cincinnati. 
Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  tell  her  that  our  letter  will 
be  addressed  to  the  religious  of  Notre  Dame?  If  she 
returns  by  way  of  New  Orleans  we  shall  be  separated 
from  her  for  yet  many  weeks.  But  in  all  those  things 
we  must  see  and  love  the  will  of  God,  for  He  is  our 
Father  and  knows  better  than  we  what  we  need. 

We  pray  for  all  your  dear  family.  Believe  me,  dear 
Madame,  neither  time  nor  distance  will  ever  cause  me  to 
forget  the  proofs  of  friendship  you  have  lavished  upon 
us;  your  goodness  will  ever  remain  in  the  grateful 
memory  of  your  humble  servant  and  devoted  friend. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

December  4,  1843. 

Yesterday,  the  feast  of  Saint  Francis  Xavier,  I  felt 
my  dear  family  had  prayed  for  their  Irma-  Sister 
Olympiade  told  me  in  the  evening  I  had  feted  myself. 
But  I  wept  as  I  had  not  done  for  a  long  time,  so  many 
remembrances  are  connected  with  this,  the  first  day  of 
my  religious  life !  I  wept,  and  I  shall  weep  many  times 
again,  unless  Mother  forbids  me.  I  was  afraid  of  be- 
coming a  religious,  and  had  tried  so  hard  never  to  be 
one,  that  I  cannot,  without  tears,  think  of  the  infinite 
goodness  of  God  in  permitting  me  to  belong  to  Him  by 
perpetual  vows.  For  me  there  is  no  greater  happiness 
than  to  speak  to  you  of  this  grace.  Every  day  my  vo- 
cation seems  more  beautiful.  The  more  we  see  the 
things  of  earth,  the  more  we  discover  their  emptiness; 
but  the  more  we  study  God,  the  more  perfections  we 
find  in  Him.  Dear  mother,  although  this  good  Savior 
is  to  religious,  more  than  to  all  others,  their  good,  He  is 
nevertheless  entirely  yours.1 

I  love  to  pray  for  you,  and  for  my  father  for  whom 

i"I  sometimes  give  myself  the  pleasure  of  examining  in  how  many  ways 
Jesus  belongs  to  me,  and  I  am  convinced  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  over 
which  I  have  more  right  than  over  Jesus." — Pere  Varin,  S.J. 


198     MOTHER  THEODORE  AT  NEW  ORLEANS 

I  am  always  tempted  to  desire  the  best  gifts,  no  matter 
what  price  he  may  have  to  pay  for  them.  If  he  is  dis- 
pleased with  my  ambition,  this  beloved  father  will  tell 
me.  Embrace  him  for  me  and  wish  him  a  happy  New 
Year;  the  same  to  all  the  dear  ones  at  Lorette.  We 
shall  talk  about  you  all  with  Mother  Theodore.  This 
cherished  Mother  was  most  graciously  received  by 
Queen  Amelia.  Though  in  speaking  of  her  children 
of  the  forest  Mother  began  to  weep,  this  did  not  prevent 
a  good  result.1 

Mother  Theodore's  return  to  America  was  not  ef- 
fected without  great  dangers.  The  vessel  (the  Nash- 
ville) had  to  weather  a  long  and  violent  tempest,  during 
which  the  poor  religious  frequently  renewed  the  offering 
of  their  lives  to  God.  On  the  27th  of  January,  1844, 
they  reached  New  Orleans,  where  a  new  trial  awaited 
them. 

The  day  after  their  arrival,  while  assisting  at  the  holy 
sacrifice  of  the  Mass  in  thanksgiving  for  their  preserva- 
tion from  shipwreck,  Mother ,  Theodore  was  stricken 
with  a  malignant  fever  which  endangered  her  life. 
During  the  many  weeks  she  lay  struggling  with  death, 
she  was  nursed  by  the  dear  Ursulines  of  New  Orleans, 
in  whose  care  she  had  been  placed  by  Sister  Mary  Cecilia, 
when  she  and  one  of  the  two  postulants  they  brought 
from  France  were  obliged  to  go  on  to  Saint  Mary- 
of-the-Woods.  The  other  postulant  remained  with 
Mother  Theodore.  It  was  only  after  a  sojourn  of  two 
months  in  New  Orleans  that  the  patient  had  convalesced 
sufficiently  to  rejoin  her  dear  daughters,  who  with  loving 
impatience  awaited  her  return  to  the  Mother-house. 
Lady  Day — March  25, 1844 — saw  her  at  last  among  her 

i  The  Queen  granted  a  free  passage  to  Mother  Theodore,  Sister  M.  Cecilia, 
and  the  two  young  girls  they  brought  with  them. 


MOTHER  THEODORE  AT  ST.  MARY'S         199 

beloved  Sisters  from  whom  she  had  been  absent  a  whole 
year. 

Notwithstanding  the  help  they  received  from  France, 
the  community  at  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods  was  often 
reduced  to  extreme  poverty.  Provisions  were  very 
cheap,  however,  and  Sister  Saint  Francis  could  write: 
"Whenever  we  make  a  good  bargain  I  think  of  my 
father.  The  other  day  we  bought  one  hundred  and 
eight  large  pumpkins  for  eighty  cents.  Meat  is  sold  at 
one  cent  a  pound,  eggs  are  three  cents  a  dozen,  and  a 
dozen  chickens,  sixty  cents ;  but,  assuredly,  man  lives  not 
by  bread  alone,  and  all  the  gold  in  America  could  not 
buy  the  happiness  of  our  life  in  Brittany." 

Though  the  sum  requisite  to  purchase  necessaries  was 
so  little,  the  Sisters  did  not  always  have  it.  "After 
Mother  Theodore's  departure,"  said  one  of  them,  "we 
were  very  poor;  Sister  Saint  Francis  consoled  us  for  all 
our  privations.  Often  after  a  frugal  breakfast  we  had 
nothing  left  for  dinner,  and  I  used  to  try  to  borrow 
something,  such  as  eggs,  cornmeal,  or  potatoes.  The 
people  to  whom  I  applied  were  also  very  poor,  and  their 
fear  of  not  being  paid  often  made  them  refuse  me.  I 
would  then  return  home  without  any  provisions.  One 
day  a  widow,1  who  had  been  doing  the  washing  for  the 
community,  had  pity  on  my  distress.  In  her  field  she 
had  but  six  hills  of  potatoes ;  of  these  she  gave  me  four 
and  kept  only  two  for  her  family."  The  Sisters  have 
not  forgotten  this  generosity,  and  have  testified  their 
gratitude  not  only  to  the  mother  but  also  to  her  children. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  did  not  share  all  the  sufferings 
of  the  community.  The  reimbursement  of  a  small  sum 
of  money  which  was  thought  to  be  lost  permitted  the 

i  Priscilla  Thralls. 


200  POVERTY  AND  WANT 

purchase  of  a  little  flour  for  the  boarders,  and  as  the 
Sisters  knew  that  Irma's  stomach  was  not  strong  enough 
for  corn,  they  gave  her  some  of  the  children's  bread. 
Irma,  unaware  of  this  attention  of  her  Sisters,  thought 
she  was  eating  the  same  sort  of  food  as  the  community 
had;  she  would  never  have  consented  to  be  an  exception; 
obedience  only  could  have  made  her  accept  it. 

From  time  to  time  she  asked  how  much  flour  they  had, 
and  when  the  Procuratrix  replied  that  a  little  still  re- 
mained in  the  sack  Irma  did  not  appear  surprised,  for 
she  had  so  much  confidence  in  God's  help  that  even  a 
miracle  would  not  have  astonished  her. 

It  was  at  this  time  that,  in  order  to  explain  the  value 
of  some  coins  to  a  postulant,  she  opened  the  money  box 
which  contained  twenty-four  dollars.  This  sum  would 
have  enabled  the  Procuratrix  to  purchase  the  most  nec- 
essary provisions.  Whilst  our  Sister  was  giving  her  ex- 
planation the  bell  rang  for  an  exercise,  and,  in  her  eager- 
ness to  go  where  obedience  called  her,  she  left  without 
removing  the  key  from  the  box.  A  man  who  was  work- 
ing near  by  noticed  this  forgetfulness,  and  carried  off 
the  precious  contents  of  the  box.  Sister  Saint  Francis 
was  very  much  pained  for  having  by  her  negligence 
caused  this  loss  to  the  house.  "What  is  to  be  done 
now?"  she  asked  the  Procuratrix.  "We  must  pray  to 
Saint  Joseph  to  assist  us,"  replied  the  latter,  "for  I  do 
not  expect  any  money  for  a  month."  This  was  on 
Thursday,  and  Irma  interceded  so  well  with  her  power- 
ful protector  that,  before  the  end  of  the  week,  the  house 
received  in  a  providential  manner  twice  the  amount  that 
had  been  stolen.  Confidence  in  Saint  Joseph  was 
thereby  greatly  increased  at  St.  Mary's. 

After  Mother  Theodore's  arrival  in  Indiana,  Irma 
wrote: 


OTHER  TRIALS  201 

To  HER  AUNT,  MADAME  LA  BABONNE  DE  LA  VALETTE 

Our  long-tried  hope  has  not  been  deceived.  God  has 
at  last  given  us  back  our  good  and  devoted  Mother. 
You  will  learn  from  the  journal  which  she  sends  to 
Messieurs  Veuillot  and  Aubineau  to  how  many  dangers 
she  was  exposed  and  how  God  delivered  her  from  them. 
I  have  read  the  interesting  account  Monsieur  Aubineau 
wrote  about  the  beginnings  of  our  work;  his  memory 
rivals  his  heart.  I  rejoice  that  such  talents  are  conse- 
crated to  our  beautiful  religion.  Were  he  to  come  here 
now,  he  would  see  near  the  poor  log  house  a  fine  new 
boarding-school  in  which  twenty  young  ladies  are  stu- 
dents. Several  among  them  have  asked  permission  to 
be  baptized.  What  a  consolation  for  us  and  for  you! 
Yes,  indeed,  for  you,  because  you  have  adopted  our 
work,  and  I  thank  God  for  exciting  in  your  soul  such 
sympathy  for  our  mission. 

I  told  Henriette  about  the  First  Communion  of  our 
children  of  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods.  On  Christmas 
morning  nine  boys  and  six  girls  had  the  happiness  of  re- 
ceiving our  divine  Savior  Jesus.  The  ceremony  took 
place  in  our  new  church,  and  although  the  floor  was  not 
yet  finished,  and  there  were  neither  doors  nor  windows, 
the  feast  was  nevertheless  very  beautiful  in  my  eyes. 
We  decorated  our  altar  with  all  the  precious  gifts  with 
which  your  charity  enriched  us  last  year. 

Instead  of  tapers,  our  children  had  candles.  We 
placed  on  the  heads  of  our  little  girls  the  veils  which  we 
use  in  taking  the  Habit.  We  are  a  thousand  times 
happier  to  clothe  them  for  Jesus  than  mothers  are  to 
adorn  their  daughters  for  a  human  union,  so  often  fol- 
lowed by  tears.  Oh!  with  what  a  good  heart  we  have 
offered  to  God  for  our  friends  in  France  these  first- 
fruits  of  our  holy  mission!  Poor  children,  how  happy 
they  were !  When  they  had  received  Holy  Communion, 
their  tears  flowed  abundantly.  They  had  tasted  for  the 
first  time  the  unknown  joys  of  heaven;  but  they  have 
several  times  since  had  the  same  happiness. 

Some  of  the  boys  were  sixteen,  eighteen,  and  nineteen 


202  PROPAGATION  OF  THE  FAITH 

years  old.  They  owe  these  consolations  to  you.  If  you 
had  spent  only  that  one  Christmas  night  with  us  you 
would  feel  amply  repaid  for  all  your  sacrifices.  Our 
boys  made  a  retreat  of  four  days  with  much  fervor. 
The  day  after  Christmas  they  were  very  sad  when  they 
had  to  return  to  their  homes.  They  asked  me  whether 
they  could  not  communicate  again  the  following 
Monday,  which  was  New  Year's  day.  I  told  them  it 
was  too  soon  and  to  wait  until  the  Feast  of  the  Kings. 
But  love  cannot  suffer  delay.  Five  of  them  went  as 
ambassadors  to  the  missionary,  and  after  having  en- 
gaged him  beforehand  to  promise  to  grant  their  request, 
if  what  they  desired  was  possible,  they  begged  him,  as 
a  New  Year's  gift,  to  hear  their  confessions  so  that  they 
might  receive  Holy  Communion  the  next  day.  Oh! 
how  the  Heart  of  Jesus  must  have  rejoiced.  It  surely 
said  to  the  heart  of  the  priest,  "Suffer  the  little  ones  to 
come  unto  me,"  for  they  all  obtained  the  longed-for 
permission. 


CHAPTER  IV 

IEMA'S  MISSIONARY  LABORS 

ON  arriving  in  America,  Sister  Saint  Francis 
had,  as  her  first  occupation,  to  give  drawing- 
lessons  to  the  pupils  of  the  boarding-school; 
she  also  taught  sacred  history,  a  study  for  which  she  had 
always  showed  a  marked  predilection.  Later  she  was 
employed  in  teaching  catechism  to  the  little  boys,  and 
in  giving  religious  instruction  to  the  pupils  and  postu- 
lants. She  assisted  Mother  Theodore  by  attending  to 
part  of  her  correspondence,  and  she  had  the  care  of  the 
novitiate  for  some  six  years  before  she  was  officially 
placed  at  the  head  of  it  in  1848. 

The  Bishop  of  Vincennes,  knowing  her  zeal  for  souls, 
commissioned  her  to  establish  in  Indiana  the  work  of  the 
Propagation  of  the  Faith.  Father  Kundek,  a  German 
priest  belonging  to  the  diocese,  agreed  to  be  a  captain 
of  this  work  on  condition  that  Sister  Saint  Francis 
would  be  the  general.  Under  her  direction  the  Sisters 
in  a  short  time  succeeded  in  forming  forty  circles.  In  a 
letter  to  one  of  her  sisters  at  Saint  Servan  she  tells  of 
this  work,  and  adds:  "The  Annals  of  the  Propagation 
has  done  us  more  good  than  you  can  imagine;  to  us  it 
is  truly  our  history.  Pepa  has  forgotten  the  letters  of 
the  Reverend  Benjamin  Petit;  but  I  beg  you  to  find 
them  and  to  send  us  new  numbers  at  every  opportunity. 
In  return  I  shall  send  you  the  new  news  of  our  mission." 
Later  she  says : 

"All  that  you  relate  concerning  the  Propagation  of 

203 


204  TABERNACLE  SOCIETY 

the  Faith  is  very  interesting;  truly  it  is  our  own  news. 
We  do  not  receive  the  numbers  here,  because  they  are 
not  translated  into  English.  Abbe  Petit's  letters  have 
been  of  special  interest  to  several  of  our  Sisters  and 
pupils  who  are  acquainted  with  him." 

With  the  assistance  of  her  bishop,  and  of  Mrs.  Sadlier, 
widely  known  as  an  author  and  translator,  Sister  Saint 
Francis  endeavored,  as  at  Saint  Servan,  to  establish  a 
library  for  the  poor,  hoping  that  the  facility  of  obtain- 
ing good  books  might  preserve  them  from  the  danger  of 
seeking  or  accepting  bad  ones. 

During  the  first  years  of  their  sojourn  in  Indiana, 
the  Sisters  were  much  grieved  on  account  of  the  poverty 
of  their  chapel,  though  it  would  pass  for  opulent  when 
compared  with  other  chapels  of  the  diocese  and  of  neigh- 
boring dioceses.  The  poverty  of  Jesus  in  the  Taber- 
nacle caused  keen  suffering  to  Sister  Saint  Francis 
Xavier.  In  order  to  assist  the  missionaries,  she  estab- 
lished the  "Work  of  Mary  in  the  Temple,"  founded  to 
procure  by  labor,  or  by  gifts,  the  means  of  supplying 
suitably  the  needs  of  the  altars  and  of  the  missionaries. 
This  was  like  a  first  and  feeble  trial  in  America  of  the 
admirable  work  known  in  our  day  as  the  "Apostolic 
Work  under  the  Patronage  of  the  Holy  Women  of  the 
Gospel."  In  the  cities  of  Rennes  and  Tours,  Irma's 
friends  gave,  collected,  and  made  a  great  many  articles 
necessary  for  service  in  poor  churches. 

Another  work  with  which  Irma  occupied  herself  al- 
most upon  her  arrival  in  America  was  that  of  making 
known  the  merciful  Heart  of  Mary,  the  refuge  of  sin- 
ners. 

"I  have  had  the  happiness  of  helping  to  propagate  de- 
votion to  the  Immaculate  Heart  of  Mary,"  [she  wrote]. 
"When  I  passed  through  New  York  I  lent  the  'Manual 


CONFRATERNITIES  205 

of  the  Archconfraternity'  to  Madame  Parmentier,  and 
explained  to  her  the  object  of  this  excellent  work. 
After  having  spoken  of  it  to  the  parish  priest  Madame 
Parmentier  wrote  to  Paris,  and  on  Assumption  Day  of 
this  year,  the  Church  of  Saint  Paul  in  Brooklyn  had 
the  privilege  of  celebrating  the  first  solemn  act  in  honor 
of  the  Heart  of  Our  Immaculate  Mother.  Madame 
Parmentier  tells  us  that  nearly  all  the  persons  in  the 
church  associated  themselves  in  the  work  and  received 
Communion  for  this  intention." 

Yet  another  pious  work  claimed  the  interest  of  Sister 
Saint  Francis.  In  a  later  letter  to  Madame  Parmentier, 
she  says:  "If  the  Holy  Childhood  is  established  in  New 
York,  kindly  tell  me  who  is  the  director.  I  have  re- 
ceived a  very  nice  letter  from  Madame  Sadlier  and  we 
have  begun  a  correspondence.  There  is  another  good 
work  I  hope  to  see  established  in  New  York ;  it  is  that  of 
the  Holy  Old  Age,  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor.  Thus 
far  a  word  of  invitation  has  been  enough  to  secure  these 
Sisters.  Monsieur  Dupont  in  Tours  and  Monsieur  Au- 
bineau  in  Paris  are  greatly  interested  in  them.  Elvire 
is  well  acquainted  with  the  superior  and  tells  us  charm- 
ing things  of  those  humble  servants  of  the  poor." 

Fixed  employments  and  regular  work  were  not  suf- 
ficient for  Irma's  zeal ;  she  united,  if  not  always  actively, 
at  least  in  heart  and  desire,  with  all  that  her  Sisters  un- 
dertook for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 
She  had  given  her  whole  heart  to  her  new  country  at 
the  moment  when,  Father  Sorin  having  said  "Sister,  be- 
hold us  now  on  American  soil,"  she  fell  on  her  knees  and 
lovingly  kissed  the  land  which  our  Lord  had  given  her 
to  cultivate.  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods  had  become  her 
new  home;  the  superiors  and  Sisters  a  second  family 
loved  equally  with  the  first.  In  the  religious  life,  her 


206  LINKS  OF  FRIENDSHIP 

affection  merely  extended  to  a  greater  number  of  sub- 
jects without  losing  any  of  its  ardor.  She  had  no 
greater  pleasure  than  to  serve  as  a  bond  between  her 
family  in  France  and  the  one  in  America,  and  to  es- 
tablish a  relation  of  friendship  between  them  either  by 
an  exchange  of  letters  or  by  presents  given  and  received. 
In  a  letter  to  her  mother  we  find  this  passage:  "Need 
I  tell  you  to  work  for  the  success  of  our  mission?  Is  it 
not  yours?  Have  you  not  given  it  your  most  precious 
gold?  Oh!  when  you  offer  a  daughter,  you  can  refuse 
nothing  afterwards.  Is  not  our  community  like  a  new 
family  for  you?  Whenever  you  are  in  need  of  prayers, 
we  are  all  here  to  help  you.  Mother  Theodore  loves  you 
as  we  love  at  home." 

In  speaking  to  her  father  of  the  pupils  and  postulants, 
she  always  said,  "your  little  girls."  She  loved  to  make 
known  the  different  members  of  her  family  to  her  pupils 
and  companions,  using  stories  and  examples  from  her 
youth  to  instruct  and  lead  them  to  God.  Thus  she  re- 
lated that,  for  some  time  when  her  little  godchild  was 
three  or  four  years  old,  she  had  for  her  all  the  jealousy 
of  a  young  mother  and  demanded  exclusively  all  her 
caresses.  Clementine  had  taken  this  request  very  seri- 
ously and,  when  her  brothers  tried  by  threats  or  promises 
to  make  her  disobey,  she  would  scream  with  all  the 
strength  of  her  infant  voice,  "Godmamma!  Godmamma, 
help  me !"  and  run  to  her  sister  who  hastened  to  protect 
her.  "In  like  manner,"  said  Sister  Saint  Francis,  "we 
should  keep  our  heart  all  for  Jesus,  and  if  creatures  try 
to  take  it  away  we  should  call  Him  to  our  aid.  He  will 
be  much  more  eager  to  defend  us  than  I  was  to  shield 
my  Clementine." 

Another  link  of  friendship  between  the  community  of 
Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods  and  Irma's  friends  in  France, 


INTERCHANGE  OF  GIFTS  207 

was  the  exchange  of  gifts.  The  arrival  of  a  box  was 
an  occasion  of  gladness,  not  only  for  the  pupils,  but  also 
for  the  Sisters. 

God  sent  us  our  Christmas  gift,  as  the  Americans  say 
[Sister  Saint  Francis  wrote] ;  the  dear  and  precious 
box  arrived  the  day  before  Christmas  Eve  without  hav- 
ing cost  us  a  cent;  and  it  was  worth  more  than  a  thou- 
sand dollars,  if  it  had  been  valued  according  to  the  pleas- 
ure it  gave  us.  There  was  a  unanimous  declaration  that 
we  had  never  before  received  such  a  present.  All  was 
so  fresh,  so  well  wrapped,  that  everything,  even  the  bird's 
nest,  was  in  perfect  condition.  Sister  Cecilia  pretends 
that  an  American  bird  must  have  built  the  nest,  because 
it  understood  comfort  so  well.  To-day  I  have  on  the 
warm  clothing  that  you  sent  me;  but  I  must  tell  you, 
my  dear  mother,  that  you  give  me  too  much.  I  have 
stockings  and  woolen  clothes  enough  to  last  me  to  the 
age  of  Mathusala,  and  if  I  were  not  so  susceptible  to 
cold  as  to  be  obliged  to  wear  two  or  three  flannel  gar- 
ments at  the  same  time,  our  Sisters  would  be  embar- 
rassed which  one  to  choose  for  me,  each  coming  from  a 
person  loved  and  having  the  right  to  my  affection. 
Yesterday  I  found  on  my  bed  that  beautiful  coverlet 
you  sent;  as  there  is  not  one  in  the  house  that  can  be 
compared  with  it,  I  asked  that  it  be  kept  for  distin- 
guished guests.  Another  like  it,  however,  would  be 
only  a  luxury  for  us,  since  we  can  buy  common  covering 
at  a  low  price.  The  country  people  have  a  great  many 
sheep  and  easily  manufacture  woolen  stuffs. 

Father  Corbe  is  delighted  with  his  stockings,  and 
he  does  not  tire  of  admiring  Aunt  Marie's  *  kindness. 
He  frequently  offers  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  for 
her  and  for  us.  Sometimes  for  more  than  six  months 
he  does  not  receive  an  alms  for  a  Mass. 

Shall  I  say  what  excited  the  most  wonder?  It  was 
the  dog;  never  before  has  a  dog  that  could  bark  but  not 
bite  been  seen  in  our  woods.  The  children  said  it  was 

i  Mademoiselle  le  Fer,  who  knit  the  stockings  for  him. 


208  INTERCHANGE  OF  GIFTS 

a  marvel  of  some  sort,  and  they  came  in  groups  to  see 
it.  Sister  M.  Cecilia  took  possession  of  two  trumpets 
and  two  whistles  for  her  pupils,  who  were  enchanted 
at  seeing  and  using  these  toys  for  the  first  time.  In 
this  country  they  have  no  idea  how  to  make  playthings 
for  children. 

Referring  to  the  Christmas  box,  she  continues : 

I  showed  Father  Contin *  the  special  doll  dressed  by 
my  Cousin  de  la  Salle,  which  leaves  to-day  to  dwell 
among  the  Indians.  She  was  promised  to  the  daughter 
of  the  chief  and  is  to  be  delivered  by  the  missionary 
who  has  care  of  the  tribe.  I  laugh  sometimes  on  seeing 
the  destiny  of  the  things  of  this  world.  Thus,  your 
wedding-dress  has  been  used  by  one  of  our  choir  boys 
in  America.  Eugenie's  little  lilac  hat  has  passed  from 
the  head  of  Lucy,  a  postulant,  to  that  of  Margaret,  the 
daughter  of  a  man  who  was  hanged.  Do  not  fear  send- 
ing any  articles  that  are  given  to  you  for  us.  The  pin- 
cushions, though  somewhat  faded,  are  wonderful  when 
they  have  a  pretty  shape. 

Mademoiselle  de  Bechenec's  books  were  taken  to  Fort 
Wayne  by  Mother  Theodore.  Six  miles  from  that  city 
there  is  a  French  parish  where  all  the  ancient  usages  of 
our  country  are  preserved,  even  that  of  presenting  the 
Blessed  Bread.  After  Mass  Mother  Theodore  re- 
mained at  the  church  door.  The  poor  French  were 
ravished  with  joy  on  hearing  her  speak  their  own  lan- 
guage. She  distributed  among  them  little  books  and 
some  beads  and  scapulars.  Their  enthusiasm  was  in- 
describable. One  of  our  American  Sisters  who  was 
present  cannot  speak  of  it  without  emotion.  Why 
could  you  not  also  put  into  the  box  two  or  three  young 
girls  to  help  instruct  so  many  poor  children? 

If  anything  arrived  apropos,  it  was  the  beautiful  lace 
for  the  altar.  There  was  just  time  to  make  it 
up  for  Midnight  Mass,  when  it  produced  a  very  fine 

i  A  priest  and  family  acquaintance  formerly  of  the  diocese  of  Rennes,  but 
at  this  time  of  Vincennes. 


INTERCHANGE  OF  GIFTS  £09 

effect.  Our  good  Mother  did  not  wait  for  Sister  M. 
Cecilia  to  come  from  the  church  to  see  the  beautiful 
ostensorium,  but  took  it  to  her  there,  where  both  fell  on 
their  knees  to  thank  God  and  to  pray  for  Alphonse  as 
well  as  for  all  our  friends  in  France.1 

Communication  was  not  always  easy,  and  sometimes 
the  boxes  were  delayed  on  the  road;  but  Providence 
watched  over  them,  and  sooner  or  later  they  arrived  at 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  Of  a  certain  box  sent  from 
France,  Irma  wrote : 

We  have  received  all  with  the  exception  of  the  travel- 
ing box  of  last  year,  whose  whereabouts  we  do  not  know. 
One  writes  me,  "It  is  here,"  and  another,  "It  is  there." 
I  thought  it  was  at  Terre  Haute,  and  on  hearing  the 
hammer  strokes  opening  one  which  came  from  there  my 
heart  beat;  but,  instead  of  the  so-much-desired  dolls,  I 
found  fifty  office-books  which,  for  a  year,  we  had 
thought  lost. 

Somewhat  later  this  box  reached  its  destination  and 
Irma  wrote : 

God  provides  for  all  things.  He  does  not  disdain  to 
look  out  for  the  young  crows  screaming  in  their  nests, 
and  He  took  care  of  the  box  sent  by  our  good  friends  of 
Saint  Servan.  It  arrived  last  evening  after  two  years 
of  traveling.  I  shall  not  tell  you  its  adventures  in  the 
several  places  through  which  it  passed;  but  recently  it 
escaped  a  fire.  The  merchant  who  was  ordered  to 
bring  it  from  New  York  with  his  merchandise,  came 
through  Pittsburgh  the  same  day  that  a  fire  laid  waste 
twenty-two  streets  of  that  great  city.  Millions  were 
lost.  Never  before,  perhaps,  was  there  such  a  confla- 
gration in  the  United  States.  Our  commissioner  saved 
his  goods  by  drenching  them  with  water,  and  then  con- 
tinued his  journey.  At  a  little  distance  from  Vin- 

i  Sister  Saint  Francis'  brother  Alphonse,  vicar  at  Fougeres.  The  osten- 
sorium was  a  present  from  the  ladies  of  that  city. 


210  INTERCHANGE  OF  GIFTS 

cennes,  the  river  being  low,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
box  behind;  finally,  however,  after  many  difficulties,  it 
arrived  last  night  during  a  frightful  storm.  The  Bles- 
sed Virgin,  to  whom  it  had  been  entrusted,  wished  to 
give  us  the  pleasure  of  finding  everything  it  contained  in 
excellent  condition.  The  young  travelers  1  had  com- 
plexions as  fresh  as  if  they  had  just  come  from  a  tour 
in  the  garden.  Thank  Cecilia  Trehouart  for  her  pretty 
boarder.2  Louison 3  was  so  happy  to  see  her  old  head- 
dress again  that  she  can  look  at  nothing  but  this  gentle 
peasant  from  Saint  Jouan,  and  at  the  shells  which 
seemed  more  lovely  to  her  than  gold  and  silver.  After 
the  opening  of  a  box  I  cannot  give  my  drawing-lesson; 
my  pupils  are  so  excited  that  their  hands  are  tremulous. 
I  can  tell  you,  my  dear  father,  that  your  beautiful  boxes 
do  wonders,  and  no  lesson  is  better  learned  than  sacred 
history.  We  may  doubt  the  purity  of  intention,  but 
God  can  make  use  of  a  box,  as  He  uses  all  other  things, 
to  compass  His  ends. 

I  have  affectionately  recognized  all  your  dear  and 
precious  antiquities.  I  beg  of  you  always  to  send  what 
you  do  through  love  of  Our  Lord.  None  but  He  knows 
how  to  appreciate  your  sacrifices,  and  it  is  a  great  com- 
fort to  me  to  tell  Him  that  it  is  to  Him  you  offer 
them. 

The  package  from  Tours  was  very  precious.  The 
good  De  la  Valette  family,  Monsieur  Dupont,  and  Mon- 
sieur Mame  rivaled  one  another  in  generosity  for  their 
friends  at  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods.  Irma  wrote  to 
Madame  de  la  Valette  concerning  the  box  of  books : 

How  could  you  wish  to  do  more,  my  dear  aunt?  If 
your  box  on  leaving  Tours  was  not  according  to  your 
desires,  let  me  tell  you  it  performed  a  miracle  during 
the  voyage ;  for,  on  opening  it,  we  found  charming  books, 
beautiful  outside  and  still  better  inside,  such  as  our 

1  Dolls. 

2  A  doll. 

s  A  postulant  from  Saint  Servan. 


INTERCHANGE  OF  GIFTS 

most  ambitious  wishes  would  not  have  dared  expect. 
Their  number  and  value  are  a  treasure  for  our  work. 
The  box  was  opened  during  recreation,  and,  could  you 
have  seen  us  around  it,  you  would  have  laughed.  The 
young  postulants  exclaimed:  "Mother,  how  beautiful 
this  book  is!"  "Look,  look,  Sister  1  What  beautiful 
pictures!'*  "These  little  blue  books,  and  these  histories, 
so  valuable  for  our  boarders !  How  happy  they  will  be 
to  have  such  premiums!"  From  that  very  evening  we 
prayed  for  our  zealous  benefactors.  Do  not  think  we 
are  ever  wanting  in  this  duty,  but  there  are  extra  days 
of  Jubilee  for  our  thanksgiving. 

The  Sisters  could  pay  only  in  prayers  for  the  gifts  re- 
ceived from  France;  but  sometimes,  as  a  visible  mark 
of  that  gratitude  which  mounts  to  God,  they  sent  their 
benefactors  some  Indiana  products, — petrefactions, 
minerals,  or  beautiful  shells  from  the  Ohio  and  the 
Wabash;  and  we  may  truly  say  they  were  happier  in 
giving  than  in  receiving.  Of  such  a  box  Irma  wrote 
thus  to  her  mother: 

This  morning  our  traveling  box  left  under  the  pro- 
tection of  our  holy  Angel  Guardian.  Oh!  it  contained 
many  things  which  will  delight  you.  Mother  Theodore 
wishes  us  to  send  you  all  that  might  be  useful  or  pleas- 
ing. What  a  generous  and  attentive  heart  our  loved 
superior  has!  She,  only,  would  have  given  us  so  much 
time  to  arrange,  to  disarrange,  and  to  replace  our  stones 
and  shells.  But  how  well  packed  it  is,  as  Charles  would 
say !  Please  announce  to  this  dear  brother  a  letter  with 
his  shells.  There  are  beautiful  things  for  him.  When 
our  Sisters  learned  that  you  are  just  as  happy  when  a 
box  comes  to  you  from  America  as  we  are  to  receive 
one  from  France,  they  wished  to  find  something  better 
than  this  one  contains.  One  of  the  postulants,  who  is 
only  fifteen  years  old,  wanted  to  catch  a  mole  and  send 
its  skin  to  Charles.  If  we  had  allowed  them,  they 
would  have  spent  days  ransacking  the  forest.  They 


IMMACULATE  HEART 

NOVHTiATE 


212  NATURE  BEAUTIFUL 

gathered  all  the  shells  except  one  dozen.  No  one  was 
more  zealous  than  Sister  M.  Magdalen,  who  was  until 
the  last  minute  finding  or  bringing  something.  She 
would  have  sent  all  the  beautiful  shells  to  the  good 
priest ; x  Mother  Theodore  and  Sister  Olympiade  de- 
sired Madame  le  Fer  to  have  all;  and  Father  Corbe 
worked  for  my  father.  I  exercised  my  authority  in 
favor  of  Monsieur  Mame,  who  every  year  gives  us  such 
beautiful  books.  We  included  some  curious  objects  for 
him,  although  we  do  not  know  whether  the  last  we  sent 
gave  him  pleasure  or  not;  for  it  seems  that  he  receives, 
as  he  gives,  in  silence. 

The  Ohio  and  Wabash  rivers  are  a  source  of  great 
riches  to  the  surrounding  country.  Terre  Haute  is 
situated  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Wabash,  which  is  about 
five  hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  length  and  is  a  tributary 
of  the  Ohio.  The  latter,  in  turn,  flows  into  the  Missis- 
sippi after  having  traversed  a  distance  of  nine  hundred 
and  fifty  miles.  Madison,  a  city  in  which  the  Sisters 
of  Prpvidence  made  one  of  their  first  establishments,  has 
a  picturesque  site  on  the  Ohio  River. 

On  beautiful  days  in  summer  the  novices  and  postu- 
lants, accompanied  by  some  Sisters,  go  to  the  banks  of 
the  Wabash,  only  four  miles  distant  from  Saint  Mary- 
of-the- Woods,  and  gather  those  beautiful  river  shells 
which  are  so  much  esteemed  by  connoisseurs.  The  shells 
are  bivalves  of  different  forms,  with  an  exterior  coating 
rugose,  striated,  and  twisted,  and  an  interior  pretty, 
smooth,  and  pearl-like.  Some  are  pink,  like  the  Bengal 
flower;  some  silver- white  with  an  iridescent  reflection; 
others  have  a  beautiful  violet  hue.  The  most  highly  es- 
teemed and  rarest  are  salmon-pink,  with  a  delicate  tint 
and  a  hard  glazing.  Their  largest  size  is  that  of  a 
medium-sized  avicula.  These  shells,  like  those  of  all 

i  Abb£  Derrien,  vicar  of  Saint  Servan. 


NATURE  BEAUTIFUL  213 

mollusks,  open  slightly  to  admit  drink  and  nourishment 
to  their  inhabitants;  at  the  least  contact,  however,  they 
close  so  tightly  that  the  finest  needle  cannot  penetrate 
the  plaits  of  their  calcareous  mantle,  and  their  modest 
apparel  shelters  them  from  all  indiscreet  looks. 

The  box  containing  these  river-shells  was  greatly 
prized  by  the  family  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier. 
Often  collectors  bought  some  of  them,  and  the  com- 
munity profited  by  this,  for  the  sum  realized  enabled  the 
friends  in  France  to  include  objects  of  much  greater 
value  in  the  collections  sent  to  Saint  Mary-of-the- 
Woods. 

To-day,  when  most  of  the  luxuriant  vegetation  which 
charmed  the  pioneer  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  has  dis- 
appeared before  an  advancing  civilization,  it  may  be  in- 
teresting to  read  the  impressions  made  by  the  primeval 
forest  upon  the  first  Sisters  of  Providence  in  Indiana. 

One  of  them  gave  this  description:  "The  forest  is 
still  a  source  of  riches  and  joys  to  our  Sisters.  There  is 
nothing  more  grandly  beautiful  than  the  American 
forests,  with  their  air  of  mystery,  as  old  as  the  world. 
From  the  earliest  dawn,  life  bursts  forth  there  with  im- 
petuosity, and  circulates  in  all  the  arteries  of  those  giant 
trees  with  their  thousand  arms.  The  morning  breeze 
gives  them  her  first  caresses,  and,  penetrating  into  the 
heart  of  this  domain,  gently  moves  each  leaf,  each  blade 
of  grass.  The  flowers  bathe  in  the  morning  dew.  The 
humming  birds  smooth  their  brilliant  plumage,  and 
chase  one  another  into  their  leafy  hiding-places.  The 
squirrels,  in  brown  and  yellow  robes,  bound  from  tree  to 
tree  by  startling  leaps,  or  again,  like  expert  acrobats, 
balance  themselves  on  the  vines  and  execute  a  thousand 
capricious  evolutions.  Oaks,  cedars,  dogwood,  and  cot- 
ton trees  raise  their  robust  trunks  more  than  a  hundred 


2U  NATURE  BEAUTIFUL 

and  twenty  feet  into  the  air.  At  these  heights  their 
thick  foliage  mingles  and  entangles,  and  from  these  net- 
works and  medleys  emerge  clusters  of  blossoms  varied  in 
their  coloring.  In  these  aerial  gardens  the  cardinals  and 
bluebirds  build  their  nests  and  lay  their  eggs. 

"The  midday  sun,  coloring  the  luxuriant  vegetation, 
brings  to  it  a  mysterious  and  fecund  regeneration. 
Busy  cities  repose  while  this  beneficent  orb  illuminates 
with  splendor  the  compact  masses  of  verdure.  The 
stag,  the  deer,  and  the  doe,  refreshed  by  their  abundant 
nourishment  of  buds  and  roots,  sleep  in  the  thickets. 
The  hum  of  the  bees  in  the  hedges  has  ceased ;  the  peri- 
winkle and  violet  no  longer  fear  the  incessant  plunder 
of  the  flies  and  beetles,  now  stupefied  by  sleep.  The 
rivers  have  reentered  their  beds,  and  the  monotonous 
noise  of  their  waters  is  the  accompaniment  of  that  har- 
monious silence. 

"But  who  can  describe  the  beauties  of  these  forests  at 
twilight?  It  is  the  hour  of  perfumes;  the  flowers  have 
closed  their  corollas,  but  their  aromas  are  carried  on  the 
breeze.  The  forest  takes  the  aspect  of  an  immense  and 
majestic  basilica,  each  tree  a  gigantic  pillar,  each  in- 
terstice a  niche  retaining  the  night  a  prisoner.  The 
traveler,  delayed  and  moved,  sits  down  on  the  trunk  of 
an  oak  and  awaits  the  daylight.  When  the  wind  sleeps, 
he  wonders  at  the  stillness  of  these  forest  retreats ;  when 
it  wakens,  he  discovers  voices  hitherto  unknown.  He  is 
motionless,  and  all  is  silent;  he  takes  a  step,  and  all 
breathes." 


CHAPTER  V 

DEATH   OF   GRANDMOTHER  LE   FEE  DE  LA   MOTTE  AND 
OF   ABBE   CARDONNET 

IF  Sister  Saint  Francis  desired  her  parents  to  par- 
take of  the  joys  and  labors  of  her  mission,  she  was 
not  a  stranger  to  any  of  the  happenings  in  her 
family  circle,  and  she  participated  especially  in  its  sor- 
rows and  trials.  One  of  her  first  bereavements  was  the 
loss  of  her  grandmother,  whose  death  left  an  immense 
void  in  the  dear  home  of  Lorette  which  Irma  had  loved 
so  well.  Though  far  advanced  in  years,  Madame  le  Fer 
de  la  Motte  had  none  of  the  infirmities  of  old  age,  and 
she  preserved  in  a  remarkable  manner  all  her  intellectual 
faculties.  She  was  the  center  of  affection,  the  bond 
uniting  the  members  of  the  large  family,  and  her  absence 
was  long  and  deeply  mourned  in  the  household  of  which 
she  seemed  the  very  soul.  Long  years,  calm  and  peace- 
ful, had  succeeded  to  the  evil  times  she  lived  through 
in  her  youth.  Sometimes  she  dreaded  lest  she  had  too 
much  happiness,  fearing  not  to  be  found  in  conformity 
with  Jesus  crucified.  She  would  have  asked  God  for 
sufferings,  if  she  had  not  been  counseled  that  it  is  more 
prudent  to  abandon  oneself  entirely  to  His  holy  Will. 
The  Lord  spared  her  even  to  the  end.  Her  death  was  as 
sweet  as  her  life  had  been.  At  the  age  of  ninety-two 
years  she  passed  away  painlessly,  like  the  light  of  a 
lamp,  whose  oil  ceases  to  feed  the  flame.  Irma  has 
words  of  comfort  and  hope  for  all  the  family.  Her  be- 

215 


216    DEATH  OF  GRANDMOTHER  LE  FER 

reaved  godmother  especially  must  have  a  letter.     It  is 
dated  April,  1843. 

To  HER  AUNT,  MLLE.  MARIE  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE 

God  has  just  exacted  a  great  sacrifice  from  us  all! 
Yesterday  on  reading  my  mother's  letter,  which  gave  the 
particulars  of  grandmother's  happy  death,  my  heart 
was  deeply  moved.  Elvire  had  apprised  me  of  the 
event,  but  she  did  not  give  me  the  details,  and  though 
I  had  hoped  that  grandmother's  death  was  like  her  life, 
I  was  truly  happy  to  be  assured  of  it.  At  her  age  she 
could  have  died  suddenly,  and  though  this  would  have 
caused  us  no  anxiety  for  her  salvation,  yet  it  would  have 
deprived  us  of  great  consolation.  But  in  this,  God 
who  loves  us  with  a  love  of  preference,  did  not  forget 
His  children. 

Last  evening  in  my  meditation  I  sought  a  motive  for 
this  predilection  of  Our  Lord  for  our  family,  and  I 
thought  that  my  two  grandfathers — one  a  saint,  the 
other  a  martyr — must  have  drawn  these  benedictions 
upon  us.  But  what  did  they  themselves  do  to  obtain 
so  many  graces?  At  this  point  I  lost  myself  in  the  im- 
penetrable designs  of  God's  mercy.  In  an  attentive 
consideration  of  our  blessed  Redeemer's  death,  how- 
ever, I  found  the  source  of  all  benefits.  Oh !  He  has  a 
right  to  grant  a  tranquil  end  to  His  children,  since  to 
procure  it  for  us  He  was  abandoned  by  His  Father, 
deprived  of  all  consolation,  surrounded  by  enemies  who 
insulted  Him  in  His  most  cruel  sufferings.  Now  is  the 
time  for  showing  our  love  to  this  merciful  Savior! 
Courage,  my  dear  aunt,  courage!  Alas!  how  can  one 
have  it  when  she  has  lost  her  mother?  But  she  is  not 
lost ;  we  shall  see  her  soon. 

Perhaps  you  remember  the  day  that  grandmother, 
after  having  spoken  to  us  of  Paradise,  confessed  her 
former  weakness.  "When  I  lost  my  husband/'  she 
said,  "I  remained  almost  a  year  without  being  willing 
to  go  to  Confession.  I  was  angry  with  Our  Lord,  and 
my  sorrow  was  so  deep  that  I  reproached  God  for  hav- 


<e/'  c/e 

¥-/'ffta&    C?/\t  sttt Hit  * 


DEATH  OF  GRANDMOTHER  LE  FER    217 

ing  deprived  me  of  my  only  support.  Easter  was  ap- 
proaching, and,  my  confessor  having  asked  why  I  acted 
thus,  I  replied,  'Because  I  am  displeased  with  God;  I 
do  not  want  to  serve  Him  who  caused  my  husband  to 
die.'  'Do  not  weep,  madame,'  he  replied.  'Monsieur 
de  la  Motte  is  not  dead;  he  lives  on  a  beautiful  island, 
of  which  the  King  has  appointed  him  governor.  He 
does  not  wish  to  return  to  us,  but  he  awaits  you  and  your 
children.  Perfect  happiness  is  his  lot,  and,  if  anything 
could  afflict  him,  it  would  be  your  ingratitude  towards 
his  Benefactor.' '  This  simple  allegory  was  as  power- 
ful as  the  one  of  the  prophet  Nathan,  and  tears  of 
penance  mingled  with  those  of  love.  "Since  then,"  said 
grandmother,  "I  have  wept  no  more  over  my  husband; 
I  have  thought  only  of  rejoining  him  and  of  taking  to 
him  all  our  children."  This  dear  grandmamma,  who 
knew  so  well  how  to  talk  about  heaven,  once  began  to 
describe  the  arrival  of  each  one  of  us  there.  The  good, 
the  bad,  all  was  told  to  grandfather.  I  remember  that 
my  history  humiliated  me  considerably.  Then  father's 
turn  came.  "Oh!  as  for  Charles,"  she  said,  "he  has  al- 
ways been  good,  like  yourself ;  he  is  absolutely  your  own 
portrait."  Then  grandfather,  having  embraced  his  son, 
gave  him  one  of  the  most  beautiful  places. 

O  dear  grandmother !  did  you  go  to  the  isle  of  Patmos 
to  learn  the  secrets  of  Paradise?  .  .  .  No;  but  she 
understood  how  to  pray;  she  knew  how  to  commune 
with  the  God  of  heaven,  and  how  to  ask  and  obtain  all 
she  desired. 

On  learning  the  great  stroke  our  family  had  just  re- 
ceived, I  went  to  the  chapel.  There,  prostrating  my- 
self before  Jesus,  I  thanked  Him  for  having  given  us 
so  good  a  grandmother,  and  for  having  left  her  with  us 
so  many  years  to  guide  us  by  her  example  in  the  path 
of  virtue.  As  I  recall  that  long  life,  so  calm,  so  pure, 
I  humble  myself  to  think  I  have  not  always  followed 
in  her  footsteps.  I  have  offered  to  our  Savior  all  your 
tears,  and  I  have  renewed  at  this  moment  my  sacrifice; 
for  I  can  say  that  if  your  pleasures  and  joys  are  no 
longer  mine,  your  sorrows  and  tears  are. 


«18  "THE  ANGEL  AND  THE  SOUL" 

I  seem  to  see  Saint  Joseph's  interview  with  my  cher- 
ished grandmother.  What  good  talks  they  will  have 
together  1 

Dear  grandmamma,  prepare  for  me  a  nice  little  place 
there  where  the  Blessed  love  God  with  all  their  heart. 
As  we  are  the  first  two  dead  members  of  the  family, 
we  should  be  side  by  side.  You  see  our  Jesus  whilst 
loving  Him;  but  I  cannot  see  Him  yet.  You  rejoice, 
and  you  shall  never  lose  your  happiness ;  but  you  can  no 
longer  suffer  for  His  love.  You  love  Him,  but  you 
can  no  longer  hope  in  Him.  You  possess  Him  in  all 
His  glory,  but  you  can  no  longer  believe  in  His  word, 
that  He  is  hidden  under  the  appearance  of  a  little  bread. 
I  prefer  this  happiness  for  you  in  your  heavenly  coun- 
try, because  God  wills  it;  but  as  for  us,  I  delight  in  our 
hope  and  our  sufferings,  because  Jesus  wills  them  for  us 
a  little  while  longer. 

The  last  lines  seem  to  echo  the  sentiments  of  Mon- 
seigneur  de  la  Bouillerie's  exquisite  canticle,  "The  Angel 
and  the  Soul."  We  cannot  forbear  placing  some  verses 
of  it  before  our  readers : 

A  cherub  said  to  my  soul  one  day, 

"Would  thou  couldst  see  into  heaven  bright, 
And  view  the  beauty  of  that  pure  ray 

Which  round  me  plays  with  eternal  light  I" 
To  him  I  said:  "O  spirit  holy, 

Who  seest  thy  God  in  glory  above, 
Of  Jesus  on  the  altar  lowly, 

Knowest  thou  the  love?" 

The  angel  answered:    "Knowest  thou  my  joy 

Of  seeing  our  God  ever  face  to  face? 
My  bliss  e'er  begins;  'tis  without  alloy; 

In  Him  fresh  joys  I  daily  trace." 
"Knowest  thou,"  I  replied,  "the  Host  divine — 

Thou,  who  to  God  ever  near  hast  kept? — 
Near  Jesus'  Eucharistic  shrine 

Hast  thou  e'er  wept?" 

The  shining  angel  did  yet  maintain: 

"My  food  divine  still  thou  knowest  not; 
With  God  to  be  and  forever  reign, 

To  adore  and  love  Him,  is  my  blest  lot," 


ILLNESS  OF  ABBE  CARDONNET  219 

"To  heavenly  Bread  thou  dost  allude," 

I  to  the  radiant  cherub  said, 
"But  God  to  me  gives  Himself  as  food: 

Didst  thou  taste  this  bread?" 

"O  cherub  of  the  courts  sublime, 

Let's  both  the  praise  of  God  repeat; 
A  heaven  thine,  the  Eucharist  mine; 

Our  portions  both  are  very  sweet. 
One  day  my  God  I,  too,  shall  see. 

But  here  I've  ALL  on  the  altar  throne ; 
I  hope  for  the  bliss  which  is  given  thee, 

Yet  I  love  my  own." 

Having  learned  of  the  serious  illness  of  Abbe  Car- 
donnet,  Irma  wrote  to  him  in  March,  1844 : 

Among  the  many  letters  written  to  me  one  is  missing, 
and  that  one  is  yours.  God,  who  knew  that  I  too  much 
desired  your  dear  letter,  did  not  permit  it  to  reach  me. 
Well,  I  am  happy  that  He  asks  this  sacrifice,  which  has 
been  offered,  as  so  many  others  have  been,  for  your  hap- 
piness. All  the  family  have  spoken  of  you  and  the  sad 
state  of  your  health.  On  reading  their  letters  my  first 
words  were,  "O  my  God!  was  it  this  I  asked  for  him?" 
I  felt  my  French  heart  breaking,  and  I  went  to  the 
chapel,  for  it  is  there  I  always  go  to  weep.  Yes,  my 
good  Father,  it  is  this,  it  is  suffering,  that  I  have  asked 
for  you,  if  it  be  a  means  of  making  you  love  Our  Lord 
more.  I  have  prayed  God  to  pardon  my  former  weak- 
ness. 

I  saw  from  Eugenie's  last  letter  that  you  were  almost 
cured.  If  the  Blessed  Virgin  has  interceded  for  your 
recovery,  it  is  certain  that  your  health  will  be  useful 
for  the  glory  of  God.  But  let  me  tell  you  something — 
something  I  can  say  to  you  only,  for  you  only  can 
pardon  it — Father,  I  am  sorry  you  are  cured.  You 
were  more  like  Jesus.  I  have  always  considered  as  a 
proof  of  His  tenderness  for  you  this  wound  which  re- 
calls the  wound  of  His  own  Sacred  Heart,  and  I  was 
proud  of  that  mysterious  favor  of  which  you  were  the 
recipient.  I  made  a  Communion  to  thank  Our  Lord 
for  it.  Only  near  Jesus,  humiliated  in  the  Eucharist, 


220  ILLNESS  OF  ABBE  CARDONNET 

can  I  joyfully  weep  over  your  sufferings.  In  these 
heretical  countries  Jesus  is  so  overwhelmed  with  oppro- 
brium, my  own  sorrows  do  not  suffice.  I  must  offer 
yours  to  Him  in  reparation  for  so  much  contempt. 

Sometimes  children  receive  Holy  Communion  in  order 
to  carry  the  Sacred  Host  away.  Others  try  to  open  the 
tabernacle  to  examine  and  touch  the  Sacramental 
Species!  Oh!  one  must  come  to  America  to  realize 
somewhat  the  humiliations  of  Jesus.  Catholics  them- 
selves often  leave  the  church  as  soon  as  they  have  re- 
ceived Holy  Communion.  It  is  for  us  Jesus  remains 
and  offers  Himself ;  and  since  in  return  we  have  offered 
ourselves  to  Him,  why  should  we  be  sad  if  He  makes  use 
of  our  gift  ? 

I  would  have  less  regretted  the  loss  of  your  letter  if 
you  had  not  been  sick,  for  good  news  to  us  both  will  be 
contradictions,  humiliations,  and  sufferings.  This  year 
I  have  drunk  deeply  from  this  chalice.  At  first  it 
seemed  very  bitter.  The  efforts  I  have  been  obliged  to 
make  have  at  times  weakened  me.  Some  days  I  was 
prostrate  from  exhaustion.  Climate,  nerves,  heart,  etc., 
reduced  me  almost  to  a  dying  state.  Then  it  was  that  I 
clung  by  the  last  sigh  of  my  will  to  the  blessed  will  of 
Jesus.  My  Father,  God  has  tried  us.  He  has  made  us 
see  that  man  is  like  the  flower  of  the  field,  which  bends 
before  the  least  wind.  To  the  philosopher  we  should 
give  human  reasons,  but  to  our  Christian  hearts  we  shall 
say:  "There,  in  a  stable,  and  on  a  cross  is  glory.  A  God 
falling  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem,  a  God  covered  with 
mudj  will  always  console  His  humiliated  children."  Oh ! 
when  shall  we  be  so  annihilated  that  it  may  be  said  of  us, 
as  it  was  of  Jesus,  Non  homo,  sed  vermis?  When  shall 
we  be  effaced  from  the  memory  of  all  creatures !  How 
deceived  I  was  when  I  thought  the  glory  of  God  was 
promoted  by  outward  works  such  as  the  world  calls 
great!  God's  glory  is  that  we  love  His  will.  And  if 
it  is  His  will  to  have  us  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind,  we  shall 
still  praise  and  glorify  Him  in  that  state.  Oh !  yes ;  His 
will,  and  nothing  but  that. 


ILLNESS  OF  ABBE  CARDONNET 

The  first  symptoms  of  the  cruel  malady  which  was  to 
cause  his  death  showed  themselves  in  Abbe  Cardonnet 
only  a  short  time  after  the  death  of  Irma's  grandmother, 
Madame  le  Fer  de  la  Motte.  His  sufferings,  unlike 
those  spoken  of  by  a  Kempis  which  do  not  render  us 
better,  made  him  advance  rapidly  in  the  way  of  sanctity ; 
they  imposed  on  him  restraints  which,  by  continually 
opposing  his  love  of  liberty  and  independence,  crushed 
his  will  and  destroyed  in  a  visible  manner  the  imperfec- 
tions which  formerly  somewhat  clouded  his  virtues.  He 
received  with  happiness  and  consolation  the  letter 
wherein  Irma  felicitated  him  on  the  sufferings  that 
seemed  to  impress  upon  him  a  seal  of  resemblance  to 
Our  Lord.  He  often  reread  the  letter,  and  loved  to  say 
that  it  had  done  him  much  good.  In  fact,  he  died  with 
it  resting  on  his  bosom.  As  the  physician  whom  he  con- 
sulted at  Paris  attributed  his  severe  attacks  to  the  bad 
state  of  his  teeth,  Abbe  Cardonnet  had  the  courage  to 
have  fourteen  extracted;  but  he  received  no  alleviation 
of  the  painful  malady,  which  kept  him  on  earth  eighteen 
months  longer. 

Abbe  Cardonnet  had  always  cherished  the  most  lively 
and  tender  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  had  con- 
tributed to  the  erection  of  a  chapel  at  Saint  Servan 
[near  Villegurie,  Irma's  home]  under  the  title  "Our 
Lady  of  Nazareth."  The  devotion  of  the  month  of 
May  not  being  yet  established  in  Saint  Servan,  he 
deemed  himself  privileged  in  being  one  of  the  first  to 
make  it  known  and  loved.  In  1841  and  1842  he  cele- 
brated with  all  possible  solemnity,  in  the  Chapel  of 
Nazareth,  the  exercises  of  the  month  of  May.  Every 
evening  he  gave  a  conference  on  the  virtues  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  Queen  of  Heaven,  devoting  himself 
so  strenuously  to  the  work  that  his  illness  was  attrib- 


222  ILLNESS  OF  ABBE  CARDONNET 

uted  to  the  fatigue  these  sermons  caused  him.  He 
was  wont  to  say  that  Mary  has  for  her  clients  recom- 
penses but  little  understood  and  rarely  appreciated. 

While  praying  before  the  statue  of  our  Blessed  Lady 
in  this  little  sanctuary  of  Nazareth,  he  received  his  death 
stroke.  Feeling  the  approach  of  one  of  his  attacks,  he 
attempted  to  leave  the  Chapel  quietly,  so  as  not  to  dis- 
turb the  faithful  during  Benediction,  which  was  then 
going  on.  Hardly  had  he  crossed  the  threshold  when 
he  fell,  never  to  rise  again.  His  death  was  a  deep  afflic- 
tion to  every  member  of  the  Le  Fer  family,  and  Irma, 
from  the  depths  of  her  forest,  mingled  her  tears  with 
those  shed  at  home  over  the  loss  of  their  true  friend. 
She  wrote  several  letters  on  this  subject,  among  them 
the  following  addressed  to  her  aunt : 

Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  October,  1844. 

On  learning  of  the  death  of  our  friend,  our  good  Abbe 
Cardonnet,  I  again  found  all  the  weakness  of  my  heart. 
I  was  entirely  Irma.  It  is  nearly  ten  years  since  I 
suffered  so  much.  This  death  has  renewed  the  remem- 
brance of  Angelina's.  Poor  human  heart,  which  can- 
not receive  a  wound  without  having  all  the  old  ones  bleed 
anew!  I  can  say  with  Chateaubriand,  "New  joys  do 
not  bring  springtime  to  the  old  ones,  but  recent  sorrows 
make  past  sorrows  revive  again."  God,  who  for  so 
many  years  had  surrounded  me  with  fortifying  graces, 
left  me  alone  with  my  weakness  for  several  hours  during 
this  last  sacrifice,  perhaps  to  make  me  the  better  under- 
stand and  solace  your  sorrow.  Now  my  soul  is  calm, 
and  I  admire  in  silence  God's  tenderness  for  us. 

Abbe  Cardonnet  is  the  one  who  has  benefited  me 
most  in  this  world,  for  God  revealed  my  soul  entirely 
to  him.  Nevertheless,  I  have  received  a  thousand  more 
graces  in  the  sacrifice  of  his  presence  than  when  enjoy- 
ing his  immediate  direction.  "If  you  love  me,"  said  our 
Lord  to  His  apostles,  "rejoice  that  I  go  to  my  Father." 


ILLNESS  OF  ABBE  CARDONNET  223 

What!  the  apostles  must  rejoice  at  the  absence  of  their 
Divine  Master,  rejoice  because  He  went  to  His  Father, 
and  we  dare  to  be  unhappy  because  our  dear  Abbe  is 
with  his  Father,  who  is  ours  also — our  Savior  Jesus! 
Truly,  my  dear  aunt,  I  experience  something  very 
singular  since  I  am  in  America ;  for  it  seems  to  me  that 
those  who  leave  you  come  near  to  me,  and  in  speaking 
with  my  loved  grandmamma  and  our  dear  Abbe  Car- 
donnet,  I  am  ashamed  to  be  happy  at  your  expense. 
They  are  here,  very  close  to  me.  I  ask  them  to  con- 
sole you ;  I  speak  to  them  heart  to  heart  in  the  presence 
of  my  beloved  Spouse  who  makes  them  happy.  We  re- 
call our  family  joys,  our  sweet  religious  feasts,  our  pious 
reading  and  prayer  in  common.  "They  have  departed 
from  this  life,  but  not  from  my  life;  can  I  consider  as 
dead  those  who  are  living  in  my  heart?"  1 

Mamma  has  blamed  me  a  little  for  the  letter  I  wrote 
in  the  spring  to  our  good  Abbe  Cardonnet,  but  I  was 
under  the  same  influence  that  he  was  when  he  wrote  to 
me  at  Brest.  "I  have  a  thousand  human  reasons,"  said 
he,  "which  make  me  prefer  to  keep  you  in  France ;  and, 
nevertheless,  I  say  to  you,  'Go  to  America.'  I  shall  say 
'Go  to  America'  as  long  as  there  is  a  drop  of  blood  in 
my  veins."  And  I  also  had  a  thousand  human  reasons 
for  desiring  the  cessation  of  his  painful  sufferings ;  but, 
whenever  I  begged  God  to  cure  him,  Our  Lord  seemed 
to  show  me  the  grandeur  of  the  eternal  glory  He  re- 
serves for  the  humiliations  endured  in  time.  Priest  oi 
Jesus  crucified!  Would  he  not  regret,  even  in  heaven, 
never  having  borne  the  marks  of  the  Holy  Victim  whom 
he  offered  for  us  every  day  on  the  altar?  His  disease, 
his  extraordinary  sufferings,  rendered  him  a  thousand 
times  more  dear  to  me.  I  united  myself  to  his  sorrows ; 
I  saw  in  him  Jesus  suffering  and  falling  in  the  streets 
of  Jerusalem.  He  was  my  glory  and  my  hope.  I  was 
not  aware  of  the  Abbe's  personal  sentiments  relative  to 
his  state  when  I  wrote  to  him  last  March  things  which 
were  for  him  alone,  but  which  God  permitted  him  to 

i  Saint  Augustine. 


ILLNESS  OF  ABBE  CARDONNET 

impart  to  you.  What  was  my  joy  when,  fifteen  days 
later,  I  received  the  only  letter  I  have  had  from  this 
dear  Father  since  my  departure  from  France!  He 
said:  "My  child,  ask  God  to  give  me  sufferings.  I 
prefer  a  thousand  times  to  suffer.  .  .  .  Sufferings  and 
Heaven!  In  your  forest  say  this  to  God  for  me;, it  is 
thus  you  can  offer  me  the  most  beautiful  testimony  of 
affection  and  gratitude." 

How  happy  this  letter  made  me  feel!  No,  I  cannot 
complain  because  God  answered  my  prayer.  Abbe 
Cardonnet  has  now  only  joy,  since  his  trials  are  ended; 
but  if  our  eyes,  blinded  by  tears,  cannot  yet  endure  the 
splendor  of  Thabor,  let  us  remain  at  Gethsemane,  where 
a  God  is  weak,  where  His  soul  moans  and  is  sorrowful 
even  unto  death. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MOTHER  THEODORE'S  ILLNESS — THE  FIRST 
ABJURATION 

IRMA'S  letters  have  shown  what  affectionate  rela- 
tions existed  between  herself,  her  companions,  and 
their  worthy  superior.     Some  fragments  from  her 
correspondence  will  disclose  still  more  this  tenderness, 
so  legitimate  and  so  blessed  by  God  who  is  the  link 
binding  together  hearts  thus  devoted. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

I  shall  whisper  to  you,  dearest  mother,  that  when  I 
left  Saint  Mary-of- the- Woods  to  replace  a  sick  Sister 
at  Vincennes  all  the  Sisters,  and  especially  the  young 
postulants,  cried  very  much.  It  reminded  me  of  one  of 
our  old  family  scenes.  I  did  not  think  persons  could 
love  so  much  anywhere  as  at  our  home.  I  might,  indeed, 
have  consulted  my  heart  and  known  the  contrary.  The 
time  that  Mother  spends  in  visiting  the  missions  is  the 
occasion  of  real  sacrifice  for  me.  I  tremble  at  the  pros- 
pect for  weeks  in  advance  and  can  scarcely  eat.  We  are 
obliged  to  watch  over  our  hearts,  so  as  not  to  love  each 
other  too  much.  In  the  midst  of  these  tumults  of  the 
"inferior  part,"  as  your  friend  Saint  Francis  de  Sales 
calls  it,  I  am  resigned.  Happily,  God  has  granted  us 
the  favor  of  better  health  for  our  dear  Mother  this  year, 
with  the  exception  of  one  week.  How  good  and  ami- 
able this  excellent  Mother  is !  She  has  a  heart  like  ours 
at  home,  and  the  tender  love  she  receives  from  all  her 
daughters  helps  her  much  in  bearing  the  hardships  of 
the  mission. 

225 


226  ILLNESS  OF  MOTHER  THEODORE 

Mother  Theodore  was  rarely  without  suffering.  Her 
health,  always  delicate,  was  a  subject  of  anxiety  and 
grief  to  her  Sisters. 

Our  Mother  [said  Irma  at  another  time]  suffers  con- 
tinually. I  do  not  know  how  she  preserves  her  gayety 
amid  afflictions  so  numerous  and  varied.  To-day  she 
wished  to  write  to  Saint  Servan,  and  instead  she  is  in 
bed,  coughing,  burning,  and  suffocating  from  a  sort  of 
inflammation  of  the  lungs.  Since  such  is  the  will  of 
God,  it  should  be  ours  also.  The  journey  from  time  to 
eternity  is  so  short  that  if  we  have  embarked  on  the  ship 
of  the  cross  we  need  seek  no  other.  When  we  become 
tepid  I  believe  God  sends  an  illness  to  Mother  to  reani- 
mate our  fervor.  What  promises  we  make  Him  then! 
What  sacrifices  we  offer!  Our  Father  in  Heaven 
knows  that  mothers  are  necessary  to  the  children.  One 
of  our  superior's  principles  is  to  consider  neither  time 
nor  health  when  duty  calls.  I  acknowledge  I  submit 
with  difficulty  to  her  courage,  but  she  has  no  regard  for 
my  representations,  and  she  often  escapes  without  say- 
ing good-by.  She  declares  that  I  have  said  for  her,  "To 
suffer  and  never  to  die,"  and  there  is  some  truth  in  this, 
for  I  know  her  sufferings  will  be  recompensed,  and  her 
death  would  be  a  great  calamity  to  us. 

We  often  need  to  make  acts  of  confidence,  for  if  the 
blow  falls  unexpectedly  we  are  ready  to  faint.  During 
Mother's  long  illness,  fire  broke  out  in  our  building  be- 
tween twelve  and  one  o'clock  at  night.  The  Sisters 
were  awakened  by  the  brightness  of  the  flames,  which 
were  already  destroying  the  dormitory.  They  rushed 
downstairs  uttering  cries  that  awakened  me  in  the  far 
end  of  the  little  garret,  where  I  was  sleeping  at  the  time, 
and  from  which  I  could  not  see  the  fire.  On  hearing 
the  distressful  sounds,  my  first  thought  was  that  Mother 
must  be  in  her  agony,  and  I  wished  to  drag  myself  to  her 
to  receive  her  last  blessing.  I  was  unable  to  walk. 
Suddenly  the  cries  redoubled;  the  bells  began  to  ring. 
O  my  God,  she  is  dead !  Mother  is  dead,  I  said  to  my- 


CONDOLENCES  227 

'  self.  She  is  dead!  At  that  moment  I  recovered  my 
courage  and  my  strength.  God  gave  me  grace  to  offer 
Him  with  entire  resignation  this  immense  sacrifice,  the 
last  I  could  accomplish  in  this  land  of  exile.  I  wished 
to  go  to  comfort  our  poor  Sisters  and  weep  with  them, 
when  one  rushed  in,  out  of  breath,  exclaiming,  "The 
house  is  on  fire!"  "Thank  God!  the  house  is  on  fire,"  I 
cried,  clasping  her  in  my  arms;  "so  Mother  is  not  dead?" 
I  hastened  to  the  chapel,  where  all  alone  I  sobbed  for 
joy,  whilst  the  others  tried  to  extinguish  the  flames, 
which,  fortunately,  did  but  little  damage.  God  watched 
over  us.  Some  minutes  later  it  would  have  been  im- 
possible to  save  the  house,  which  is  constructed  entirely 
of  wood.  Bless  Him  with  us ;  bless  Him  especially  for 
having  preserved  our  Mother,  who  is  a  thousand  times 
more  precious  to  our  community  than  any  earthly  goods. 
To  know  what  she  is  to  us  you  would  have  to  suffer  as 
we  did  for  sixty  days,  fearing  every  moment  to  lose  her. 

To  HER  AUNT,  MADAME  DE  LA  SALLE 

Now  that  I  have  an  hour  of  leisure  I  am  coming  for  a 
little  chat  with  you.  God  will  not  be  displeased  that  I 
give  this  time  to  you,  for  we  will  speak  of  Him  together, 
to  encourage  each  other  to  love  Him  with  all  our  hearts. 
You  have  been  tried,  dear  aunt,  in  your  weakest  point. 
You  have  had  sacrifices  of  the  heart  to  make,  sacrifices 
that  are  the  most  painful  but  also  the  most  meritorious. 
In  thought  I  often  see  you  visiting  different  parts  of  the 
house,  saying  to  yourself,  "Mother  sat  there;  she  slept 
here;  this  was  her  place  at  table.  Poor  Abbe  Cardon- 
net  planted  that  tree;  he  walked  in  this  avenue;  he 
studied  here."  And  then  a  sigh  escapes  from  your 
heart.  Ah!  the  dear  ones  are  not  lost.  They  see  us 
and  one  day  we  shall  see  them.  Let  us  not  compassion- 
ate the  mariner  who  arrives  in  port,  or  the  exile  who 
returns  to  his  country.  Neither  let  us  compassionate 
ourselves,  since  we  have  in  our  place  of  exile  the  same 
Jesus  who  is  the  happiness  of  our  brethren  in  heaven. 
Let  us  pity  ourselves  when  we  offend  Him,  but  not 


228  MOTHER  THEODORE'S  ILLNESS 

when  we  suffer.  I  have  sometimes  been  tempted  to 
regret  that  you  gave  me  your  heart  of  ivy  *  without  giv- 
ing me  your  good  qualities ;  but  of  late  I  have  seen  that, 
instead  of  complaining  of  being  sensitive  we  ought  to 
thank  God,  since  it  is  a  means  of  loving  and  suffering 
more.  Let  us  joyfully  allow  everything  in  us  to  grow 
old  except  the  heart. 

During  Mother  Theodore's  illness  I  had  some  hard 
attacks,  but  our  good  God  sustained  me.  Now  I  enjoy 
with  gratitude  the  happiness  He  has  given  us  by  curing 
our  beloved  superior.  I  must  ask  you  to  make  us  a  little 
present,  something  that  would  have  been  very  beneficial 
during  her  illness:  I  mean  a  little  Spanish  wine.  We 
do  not  need  much,  as  a  few  drops  suffice  for  Mother 
Theodore's  poor  stomach.  During  her  last  attack,  she 
had  fainting  spells  in  which  we  thought  she  would  die. 
I  often  thought  of  the  old  Spanish  wine,  such  as  you  had 
at  Lorette,  but  we  had  none.  We  cannot  attribute  her 
cure  to  either  doctors  or  remedies.  God  alone  has  been 
everything  to  us.  I  assure  you  we  prayed  with  all  our 
hearts.  Our  good  Father  Corbe  also  helped  us.  He 
spent  his  time  half  before  Our  Lord  in  the  Blessed  Sac- 
rament, half  with  Mother,  and  although  he  had  no  hope, 
humanly  speaking,  he  never  ceased  to  hope  in  God ;  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  one  night  when  he  thought  that  all  was 
over.  Poor  Mother  Theodore  thought  so,  too,  for  she 
called  me  to  her  bedside  and  told  me  to  embrace  her  for 
the  last  time.  Ah !  dear  aunt,  you  can  understand  what 
passed  in  my  heart.  You  know  our  situation  and  you 
can  judge  what  anguish  oppressed  my  soul,  not  only 
for  myself  but  for  our  whole  Congregation.  We  sang 
a  Te  Deum  last  Sunday  in  thanksgiving  for  her  re- 
covery. I  say  "we,"  for  with  no  offense,  I  hope,  to  my 
Sisters,  I  sang  too,  and  although  somewhat  out  of  key, 
to  tell  the  truth  I  did  not  do  so  very  badly.  I  do  not 
remember  if  I  asked  you  to  knit  a  few  pairs  of  stockings 

i  Her  godmother's  affectionate  nature  caused  her  to  cling  to  her  friends. 
This  was  a  source  of  keen  suffering  to  her  when  obliged  to  separate  from 
them.  Irma  suffered  in  the  same  manner,  for  she  tells  us  she  also  had  "a 
heart  of  ivy." 


SCARCITY  AND  HIGH  PRICES  229 

for  our  good  Father  Corbe.  I  undertook  to  make  him 
a  pair,  but  it  took  me  more  than  eight  months,  and  there 
is  much  to  be  said  about  the  character  of  the  work,  for  I 
knit  only  in  the  evening  and,  as  mamma  would  say,  six 
feet  away  from  the  candle.  I  often  talk  to  Father 
Corbe  about  our  good  Abbe  Cardonnet.  Father  Corbe 
also  belonged  to  a  family  where  union  was  life.  When 
he  speaks  about  the  Laugles  he  is  like  me  when  I  talk 
of  you :  the  end  is  slow  in  coming. 

How  do  you  spend  your  time?  The  morning  must 
appear  long  to  you.  It  is  a  great  sacrifice  for  every 
one  to  see  dear  Aunt  Jeanne  pass  most  of  her  day  with 
the  orphans  at  Nazareth,  but  it  is  all  for  God.  If  you 
think  the  little  picture  I  am  sending  would  please 
Monsieur  de  Chateaubriand,  be  kind  enough  to  give  it 
to  him.  I  often  think  of  him;  he  would  like  life  in 
America,  I  am  sure.  If  he  could  send  us  a  copy  of  the 
"Genie  du  Christianisme"  in  English,  we  should  be  most 
happy  to  have  it.  The  Governor  of  Indiana  has  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  read  it;  he  went  all  through  our 
library  hoping  to  find  it.  Our  Congregation  has  just 
been  incorporated  and  can  now  legally  own  property, 
sell,  etc. 

When  you  see  any  members  of  the  good  Monut 
family,  thank  them  again  for  their  excellent  gifts  that 
are  so  much  appreciated  by  our  Sisters  who  do  the  sew- 
ing. Here  a  little  spool  of  cotton  that  costs  a  penny  in 
France  is  sold  for  eight  or  ten  cents,  and  the  rest  in 
proportion;  and  even  then  it  is  hard  to  find  thread.  If 
we  could  send  you  wood,  soap,  or  meat  in  exchange  for 
cotton,  thread,  etc.,  it  would  be  advantageous  to  both 
sides.  We  could  carry  on  a  good  business.  But  there 
are  other  provisions  that  do  not  need  to  be  transported, 
and  those  are  the  ones  that  I  wish  to  exchange  with  you 
— prayer,  good  works,  sufferings.  Let  us  always  carry 
on  this  traffic  through  the  Heart  of  Jesus. 

When  you  write  to  Therese  tell  her  I  shall  love  her 
always.  I  can  think  of  no  one  who  could  replace  her 
in  the  little  boudoir  at  Lorette.  O  dear  aunt,  how 
often  you  surrounded  me  with  attentions  in  that  little 


230  CONDITION  OF  HEALTH 

boudoir!  I  was  very  ungrateful  to  you,  but  now  my 
heart  is  more  calm  than  it  sometimes  was  then.  Rejoice 
in  my  happiness.  I  know  that  when  I  say  to  you  "I 
am  happy"  it  does  you  good,  and  that  is  why  I  say  it  so 
often.  God  calls  you  to  approach  Him  through  trials 
and  uneasiness  of  mind.  May  His  Will  be  done !  Yet, 
if  it  were  possible  that  this  chalice  might  pass  away  from 
you,  I  should  be  very  glad.  You  know  that  I  love  you 
sincerely. 

Monsieur  Aubineau,  in  his  articles  on  Saint  Mary-of- 
the- Woods,  said  with  truth:  "If  Mother  Theodore's 
health  was  delicate,  Sister  Saint  Francis  may  be  said 
to  have  had  no  health  at  all."  Her  desire  of  devoting 
her  life  to  the  missions  appeared  for  so  long  a  time  an 
illusion  to  her  superiors,  that  when  she  was  preparing 
to  leave  Havre  for  New  York  they  said  to  her,  "You 
will  be  thrown  into  the  sea  the  third  day."  "Well,  what 
difference  does  it  make,"  she  smilingly  replied,  "to  be 
eaten  by  fish  or  devoured  by  worms?"  Although  the 
forests  of  the  New  World  did  not  improve  her  delicate 
constitution  or  lessen  her  habitual  sufferings,  she  never- 
theless had  sufficient  strength  to  fulfill  her  numerous 
duties. 

In  her  letters  she  rarely  spoke  of  her  health  unless  to 
reassure  her  family.  Bishop  Martin,  in  one  of  his  visits 
to  France,  said  at  Saint  Servan  that  Sister  Saint  Fran- 
cis Xavier  seemed  no  longer  to  belong  to  this  earth,  so 
thin,  almost  transparent,  had  she  become.  "Bishop 
Martin  has  much  exaggerated  my  physical  state,"  she 
wrote;  "would  to  God  there  were  nothing  carnal  about 
me !  I  was  indeed  a  little  thin  when  he  left  us,  but  since 
that  time  I  have  greatly  improved.  Only  yesterday  our 
Sisters  were  admiring  my  plumpness.  It  is  deplorable 
to  be  so  far  from  one  another  that  we  only  know  old 


news." 


CONDITION  OF  HEALTH  231 

The  excessive  heat  of  the  Indiana  summers  caused 
Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  the  most  painful  oppres- 
sion, which  lasted  from  July  until  autumn.  She  spoke 
of  these  sufferings,  however,  as  a  matter  of  very  little 
consequence.  "My  smothering  attacks  cause  me  no  un- 
easiness, but  they  always  alarm  Mother  Theodore.  I 
only  lose  time  trying  to  assure  her  that  I  shall  not  die 
of  them,  for  she  will  be  disquieted  about  me.  When  she 
seeks  an  explanation  for  it  all  I  give  her  the  reason  in- 
vented by  our  old  doctor  at  Saint  Servan,  who  insisted 
that  the  ailments  of  my  youth  were  the  result  of  political 
events." 

During  the  winter  our  Irma  suffered  from  neuralgia, 
and  particularly  from  excessively  cold  feet.  This  latter 
discomfort  she  presented  to  God  as  the  most  constant 
mortification  she  could  offer.  She  had  for  her  use  an 
old  green  carriage-boot,  called  familiarly  the  green 
house,  in  which  a  warm  brick  was  placed.  This  followed 
her  everywhere.  She  preferred  it  to  a  foot-warmer  sent 
from  France,  which  burned  her  stockings,  her  shoes,  and 
her  feet  even,  without  warming  them,  and  which  caused 
her  remorse  on  account  of  the  dear  virtue  of  poverty  she 
saw  transgressed. 

To  the  French  Sisters  the  season  of  mosquitoes  was  a 
veritable  time  of  plague.  But  one  might  have  believed 
Sister  Saint  Francis  insensible  to  their  stings,  had  not 
her  hands  and  face,  swollen  and  covered  with  red  spots, 
revealed  the  traces  of  their  passage.  She  never  inter- 
rupted her  occupations  to  brush  them  away.  She  wrote, 
however:  "Among  temporal  enemies,  those  I  dread  most 
are  the  mosquitoes.  An  army  of  fleas  also  attacks  me, 
but  it  is  an  army  without  music,  whilst  the  fifes  of  the 
mosquitoes  incessantly  resound  in  my  ears." 

Sister   Saint   Francis   was   ingenious   in   combining 


232  CONDITION  OF  HEALTH 

mortification  and  obedience.  In  summer  when  she 
crossed  the  convent  grounds  to  give  her  lessons  at  the 
Academy,  Mother  Theodore  required  her  to  carry  an 
umbrella  on  account  of  her  headaches.  Though  an  en- 
cumbrance, she  never  failed  to  take  it;  but  she  held 
it  invariably,  yet  certainly  not  intentionally,  on  her 
shoulder  without  perceiving  the  direction  of  the  sun's 
rays.  She  was  always  so  preoccupied  with  the  thought 
of  God  that  she  often  lost  sight  of  earthly  things. 

She  took  care  of  her  health  for  the  sake  of  obedience 
only,  and  it  was  even  then  a  painful  task  for  her,  which 
it  is  likely  she  would  have  forgotten  more  than  once  had 
not  Mother  Theodore  appointed  a  Sister  to  remind  her 
of  it.  One  winter  a  friend  wrote  to  her:  "You  who 
are  so  frail  and  delicate  must  suffer  greatly  during  this 
intensely  cold  weather.  Indeed,  I  should  pity  you,  did 
I  not  know  what  profit  you  draw  from  the  winters,  and 
that  the  cold  causes  you  to  recite  with  increased  fervor 
the  canticle  of  the  three  children  in  the  fiery  furnace. 
I  remember  what  our  good  superior,  Abbe  Salmon,  used 
to  say  to  us  when  it  was  very  cold;  he  would  repeat, 
Benedicite  glades,  benedicite  gelu  et  frigus,  Domino" 

Though  Irma  was  very  ambitious  for  the  sanctifica- 
tion  of  all  her  family,  she  wished  particularly  that  her 
beloved  father  might  not  pass  through  the  flames  of 
purgatory,  but  might  expiate  entirely  in  this  world  the 
faults  into  which  human  frailty  betrays  even  the  most 
perfect  souls.  Nevertheless,  before  asking  this  favor  of 
God  she  submitted  it  to  her  father,  in  order  to  obtain  his 
authorization  for  a  grace  which  concerned  him  person- 
ally. As  love  was  the  motive  of  Monsieur  le  Fer's 
service  of  God,  and  fear  was  practically  unknown  to 
him,  he  left  to  Our  Lord  with  perfect  confidence  the  time 


VICARIOUS  SUFFERING  233 

and  place  of  undergoing  the  temporal  punishment  of  his 
sins.  He  answered  his  daughter,  with  playful  shrewd- 
ness, that  he  had  just  been  reading  with  the  greatest  in- 
terest the  life  of  St.  Catherine  of  Siena,  in  which  one 
passage  had  particularly  struck  him.  The  saint  had 
asked  Our  Lord  to  let  her  suffer  in  her  father's  stead  and 
to  place  upon  her  the  expiation  of  his  faults  in  this  world, 
so  as  to  preserve  him  from  purgatory — a  prayer  which 
was  accepted  by  God.  Irma's  father  added  that  if  she 
felt  able  to  make  the  same  request  for  him  he  would  be 
very  grateful  for  her  generosity. 

The  letter  in  which  Irma  expressed  the  sorrow  caused 
by  her  father's  reply  has  not  been  found.  She  took 
quite  seriously  what  he  had  said  partly  in  pleasantry, 
and  she  really  suffered  not  to  be  able  to  imitate  Saint 
Catherine  in  this  particular  act  of  generosity.  Had  she 
been  permitted  she  would  no  doubt  have  done  so;  but  she 
could  not  dispose  of  herself,  and  Mother  Theodore  de- 
cidedly opposed  her  asking  of  God  anything  of  the  sort. 
Mother  remembered  the  effect  of  a  similar  prayer  made 
by  her  dear  daughter  on  a  like  occasion.  It  happened 
thus:  one  day  when  Mother  Theodore  was  very  sick, 
Sister  Saint  Francis  was  confined  to  her  bed  by  one  of 
the  headaches  from  which  she  used  to  suffer  exceedingly 
two  or  three  times  a  week.  A  simple  partition  sepa- 
rated her  room  from  that  of  her  dear  superior,  whose 
groaning  she  could  hear.  Being  unable  to  care  for  her 
personally,  Irma  asked  Our  Lord  to  diminish  her  be- 
loved superior's  sufferings  by  increasing  her  own.  Her 
prayer  was  granted,  and  for  five  hours  a  part  of  Mother 
Theodore's  sufferings  were  added  to  those  of  Sister 
Saint  Francis.  Her  pains  became,  indeed,  so  intense 
that,  thinking  she  was  going  to  die,  she  sent  for  Father 


AFFECTIONATE  CARE 

Corbe.  "Father,"  she  said  when  she  became  a  little 
calm,  "what  God  does  He  does  well.  Never  again  shall 
I  ask  for  the  sufferings  of  other  people." 

When  Irma  was  disabled  on  account  of  sickness  she 
suffered  less  from  her  physical  pain  than  from  her  zeal, 
as  is  evident  from  one  of  her  letters  to  Father  Dupontav- 
ice,1  the  pastor  at  Madison,  in  which  she  says: 

I  hope  your  time  is  better  employed  than  mine — that 
is,  if  there  can  be  anything  better  than  to  do  God's  will 
by  doing  nothing.  I  can  preach  very  well  to  Mother 
Theodore  in  order  to  console  her  when  she  is  not  able 
to  attend  to  the  community.  I  tell  her  that  God  has  no 
need  of  strong  horses  to  draw  His  carriage,  and  that  He 
is  satisfied  with  our  good-will.  Still,  when  it  is  my  turn 
to  remain  in  the  stable,  and  I  see  around  me  so  many 
uncultivated  fields,  so  much  virgin  soil  to  be  tilled,  I 
acknowledge  that  it  costs  something  to  have  poor  health. 

In  the  following  letter  she  tells  of  the  affectionate 
care  she  received  when  ill. 

To  HER  MOTHEE 

I  went  to  Vincennes  in  order  to  consult  the  physician, 
and  returned  quite  recovered.  But  since  then  I  have 
had  another  of  my  old  attacks,  with  frequent  fever  and 
several  fainting  spells.  For  some  days  Mother  Theo- 
dore was  uneasy  about  me;  but  there  is  no  probability 
of  my  dying,  and  I  have  not  even  thought  of  it.  She 
absolutely  forbids  it,  and  extends  her  authority  even 
over  Our  Lord,  to  whom,  as  soon  as  I  am  somewhat  ill, 
she  addresses  prayers  that  are  equivalent  to  orders. 
After  all,  as  we  have  played  the  same  trick  on  her  and 
kept  her  by  the  same  means,  she  is  only  avenging  her- 
self. I  am  now  fully  convalescent,  and  I  eat  until  I  am 
ashamed.  I  make  all  Sister  Olympiade's  dainties  dis- 

i  Father  Dupontavice  made  his  studies  at  the  seminary  of  Rennes  with 
Irma's  brother,  Abbe1  le  Fer  de  la  Mottc. 


AFFECTIONATE  CARE  235 

appear  in  an  instant,  at  which  she  raises  her  astonished 
eyes  to  heaven.  This  dear  Sister  has  true  affection  for 
me,  and  has  given  me  proofs  of  it  which  I  shall  never 
forget.  Indeed,  my  dearest  mother,  Our  Lord's  words 
are  verified,  that  those  who  leave  all  for  Him  will  receive 
a  hundredfold  even  in  this  life.  I  had  to  be  ill  in  order 
to  appreciate  the  charity  and  tenderness  of  my  Sisters ; 
one  arranged  my  coverings,  another  gave  me  a  drink,  a 
third  brought  me  flowers  from  the  garden.  Pepa  told 
me  that  at  home  she  had  been  waited  on  like  a  queen; 
but  I  have  been  treated  like  the  spoiled  child  of  Our 
Lord,  for  I  am  so  near  the  chapel  that  from  my  room 
I  can  hear  the  prayers  of  the  Holy  Mass.  Mornings 
that  I  am  able  to  receive  Holy  Communion,  I  have  only 
a  step  to  take,  then  I  can  quietly  return  and  finish  my 
thanksgiving  in  the  chimney  corner  or  in  bed. 

While  I  am  writing  to  you,  one  of  our  Sisters  is  put- 
ting on  my  table  a  plate  of  nice  little  fritters;  you  see 
I  have  the  fat  of  the  land  and  the  dew  of  heaven.  But 
I  hope  that  before  dying  I  shall  have  some  poverty  to 
endure. 

Our  boarding-school  is  succeeding  very  well.  On 
July  thirty-first  we  had  the  commencement  exercises 
under  the  forest  trees.  The  pupils  acted  little  plays, 
and  several  of  them  wore  Breton  costumes.  Louison 
made  a  Cancalaise  headdress,  with  which  the  Americans 
were  delighted.  The  children  were  examined  and  ac- 
quitted themselves  well.  Then  came  the  distribution  of 
prizes,  which  Mother  Theodore  presented  to  the  parents. 
I  was  pleased  to  see  those  men,  apparently  so  cold,  wipe 
their  eyes  as  they  kissed  their  daughters.  When  the 
crown  for  excellence  of  deportment  was  awarded  to 

Mary  G ,  one  of  your  little  Catholic  girls,  her  poor 

mother  was  almost  choked  with  tears  as  she  placed  on 
her  child's  head  the  pretty  crown  which  I  myself  had 
had  the  pleasure  of  making.  After  the  ceremony  the 
mother  of  the  happy  young  girl  said,  "Mary,  we  shall 
keep  the  crown  carefully,  and  on  your  wedding  day  I 
shall  place  it  again  on  your  head."  "O  mother!  say 
rather  the  day  of  my  reception  of  the  Holy  Habit,"  she 


236  LABORS  AND  DISAPPOINTMENTS 

replied  quickly.     The  dear  child!     She  would  indeed  be 
happier  to  wear  it  for  that  ceremony  than  for  any  other. 

The  truth  of  Saint  Theresa's  words,  "The  barrier  of 
inability  is  something  painful  for  love,"  was  fully  ex- 
perienced by  the  Sisters  of  Providence  during  the  first 
six  years  spent  on  the  missions.  Despite  their  labors, 
their  zeal,  their  fervent  prayers,  they  did  not  meet  with 
the  success  they  had  looked  for  in  the  conversion  of  their 
pupils,  for  up  to  this  time  not  one  had  been  received 
into  the  fold  of  the  Church.  Baptism  had  been  ad- 
ministered to  some  little  children  and  young  girls  be- 
longing to  parents  who,  although  Catholic  in  name,  had 
neglected  to  have  them  baptized;  but  the  hopes  of  the 
Sisters  regarding  their  non-Catholic  students  were  not 
realized.  Several  of  these,  however,  manifested  an  ar- 
dent desire  to  become  Catholics,  but  until  they  were  of 
age  they  could  not  be  permitted  to  make  their  abjuration 
without  the  consent  of  their  parents.  Some  earnestly, 
but  vainly,  solicited  this  permission ;  others,  upon  return- 
ing to  their  homes,  gradually  lost  their  good  desires. 
"We  are  often  disappointed  in  our  pupils,"  Irma 
lamented;  "with  us  they  are  all  ardor,  but  once  in  the 
world,  they  are  afraid.  If  you  only  knew  what  persecu- 
tions they  suffer." 

These  disappointments  were  extremely  painful  to  the 
burning  zeal  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier.  To  con- 
sole her,  Mother  Theodore  would  say :  "We  are  sowing 
the  seed  now,  and  perhaps  it  will  remain  buried  for  many 
years;  but,  even  if  the  harvest  be  destined  for  other 
hands,  we  shall  not  have  lost  our  time.  If  none  of  the 
young  girls  that  we  are  bringing  up  become  Catholics, 
at  least  their  absurd  ideas  and  erroneous  opinions  of  the 
Catholic  Church  will  be  corrected,  and,  when  they  in 
their  turn  send  their  daughters  to  us,  we  may  hope  there 


THE  FIRST  ABJURATION  237 

will  not  be  the  same  opposition.  God  intends  us  to  do 
good  little  by  little  and  without  noise.  We  must  first 
root  up  prejudices  before  planting  Catholic  virtues." 

Irma  felt  the  truth  of  this  reasoning,  and  she  wrote  to 
her  family: 

We  have  much  consolation  in  the  children  of  our 
classes;  many  of  them  have  lost  their  prejudices,  and  in 
heart  are  attached  to  our  holy  religion.  Too  weak  to 
declare  themselves  Catholics  in  their  family  circles,  they 
sigh  over  their  cowardice  and  repeat  incessantly  to  the 
other  pupils,  "How  happy  are  you  to  be  born  of  Catholic 
parents!"  One  of  them,  however,  wrote  to  us  last  week 
that  she  was  soon  going  to  receive  permission  to  be  bap- 
tized. It  is  our  hope  that  future  generations,  at  least, 
will  taste  the  fruits  of  their  mothers'  convictions. 

But  hope  alone  could  not  satisfy  the  heart  of  Sister 
Saint  Francis  Xavier;  great,  accordingly,  was  her  joy 
when  she  could  finally  announce  to  her  family  that  Our 
Lord  had  granted  them  the  favor  of  seeing  at  Saint 
Mary-of- the- Woods  one  abjuration,  which  was  soon  to 
be  followed  by  many  others.  She  gives  an  account  of 
the  touching  ceremony  in  her  next  letter. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

July  25,  1846. 

Now  we  can  say  our  Nunc  dimittis  since,  after  six 
years  in  America,  we  have  at  last  had  the  consolation  of 
seeing  one  of  our  pupils  receive  baptism.  God  for  a 
long  time  deferred  granting  us  this  favor,  perhaps  to 
make  us  appreciate  it  the  more.  You  will  think  the 
happy  one  is  Sarah  or  Lucy,  who  are  both  so  well  in- 
structed and  have  so  long  desired  this  grace.  But  no; 
it  is  Marianne  Duret,  a  young  girl  of  fifteen,  whose 
gayety  and  lively  manners  always  made  us  think  she 
would  have  neither  the  courage  nor  the  perseverance 
necessary  for  this  great  action.  Her  father  is  an  old 


238  THE  FIRST  ABJURATION 

Frenchman  from  Canada,  who  was  baptized  but  has 
never  practiced  any  religion.  Her  mother  is  an  Ameri- 
can Protestant,  and  all  the  friends  of  Marianne  are  also 
non-Catholics. 

Last  Thursday,  July  twenty-third,  at  seven  in  the 
morning,  she  had  the  happiness  of  receiving  holy  bap- 
tism. Mother  Theodore,  who  had  the  goodness  to 
allow  me  to  instruct  her,  also  chose  me  for  her  god- 
mother. I  shall  not  tell  you  the  emotions  of  my  soul 
when,  after  I  had  answered  for  her  and  with  her  that 
she  renounced  all  the  pomps  of  the  devil  and  believed  in 
Jesus  Christ,  she  was  received  into  the  Church.  For- 
tunately, there  was  no  occasion  for  me  to  speak  at  the 
moment  when  she  was  baptized;  I  was  so  choked  with 
tears  that  I  could  not  have  uttered  a  word.  Ah !  there 
were  many  tears  shed.  I  think  Mother  Theodore  for- 
gave us  then  for  having  prevented  her  going  to  heaven 
last  winter.  If  only  you  had  been  present,  my  dearest 
mother,  with  my  beloved  father  and  all  those  who  love 
our  mission.  You  would  have  been  so  happy  to  witness 
the  pure  joy  of  your  first  little  "granddaughter"  of  the 
forest.  When  the  priest  had  placed  on  her  head  the 
white  veil  and  crown  of  flowers,  made  by  her  godmother, 
she  took  her  place  among  the  First  Communicants. 

Our  good  Father  Corbe  gave  them  a  very  touching 
exhortation.  All  the  Catholic  children  had  gone  to 
Confession  the  evening  before,  so  that  they  might  re- 
ceive Holy  Communion  with  their  companions.  Three 
of  the  little  girls  have  non-Catholic  mothers;  only  one 
had  the  happiness  of  having  her  mother  kneel  beside 
her ;  but  God  has  chosen  us  to  replace  them  in  some  re- 
spect with  their  children.  Marianne,  by  her  piety  and 
joy,  excited  a  holy  jealousy  in  the  hearts  of  the  others. 
I  offered  to  God,  in  the  name  of  you  all  and  of  our  dear 
community  of  Ruille,  this  first  conquest  of  the  Sisters 
of  Providence  in  America.  After  the  Mass  a  fine 
breakfast  awaited  the  children.  The  weather  was  beau- 
tiful, and  the  day  ended  with  Benediction  of  the  Blessed 
Sacrament.  Public  prayers  were  offered  for  our  dear 
benefactors. 


RELIGIOUS  PREJUDICES  239 

You  see,  my  mother,  there  are  some  true  joys  for 
the  poor  Sisters  of  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  Thank 
God  for  us,  because  He  has  an  infinite  love  for  our  dear 
mission,  which  He  well  knows  is  His  own. 

I  have  a  big  boy  twenty  years  old  whom  I  am  pre- 
paring for  his  First  Communion.  They  accuse  me  of 
partiality  for  my  Lorenzo,  and  I  do  not  attempt  to  jus- 
tify myself  entirely. 

Some  days  after,  she  wrote  again  to  her  mother: 

Aug.  7,  1846. 

Yesterday  our  distribution  of  prizes  took  place;  to- 
morrow our  retreat  will  open,  so  it  suffices  to  tell  you 
that  I  have  but  one  little  moment  to  chat  with  you. 
Our  children  answered  very  well,  and  their  parents  are 
satisfied  with  their  progress.  A  lawyer  who  resembles 
Monsieur  Guilbourg  presided  at  the  commencement. 
Although  a  Protestant,  he  has  shown  much  interest  in 
our  school. 

Despite  her  crown,  her  reward  of  merit,  and  her 
gilded  books  for  first  prize  in  her  class,  our  poor  Lucy 
left  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods  with  a  very  heavy  heart. 
Since  she  asked  permission  to  be  baptized,  her  father  is 
in  a  state  of  desperation.  She  trusts  in  God,  however, 
and  is  determined  to  be  a  religious  as  soon  as  possible. 
She  recommends  herself  to  your  prayers.  Last  evening 
she  went  into  the  chapel  for  the  last  time,  and  sobbed  on 
leaving  this  dear  refuge  where  she  hopes  to  spend  her 
life.  In  the  city  where  her  father  resides  there  is  no 
priest,  no  instruction,  nothing  to  sustain  her.  Sarah, 
fortunately,  lives  not  very  far  away,  and  they  can  con- 
fide to  each  other  their  hopes  and  their  sorrows.  Sarah 
is  still  awaiting  the  return  of  the  priest,  to  be  baptized. 
His  absence  has  already  lasted  six  months,  and,  if  he 
defer  his  return  much  longer,  she  will  ask  permission 
to  come  here  in  September.  Pray  for  them  both  and 
also  for  my  goddaughter,  Marianne,  who  has  a  very 
passionate  disposition.  She  thanks  father  for  his  beau- 
tiful box  and  says  she  will  keep  it  all  her  life. 


240  RELIGIOUS  PREJUDICES 

There  seems  to  be  nothing  which  Satan  leaves  untried 
in  order  to  avenge  the  tricks  we  play  on  him.  He  is 
furious  against  us.  The  other  day  the  Presbyterians 
sold  at  a  fair  dolls  dressed  as  Sisters  of  Providence. 
They  made  us  with  heads  of  monsters.  .  .  .  They  still 
have  their  dolls,  and  the  number  of  our  pupils  has  in- 
creased. 


CHAPTER  VII 

IRMA,   MISTRESS   OF   NOVICES — SPIRITUAL   COUNSELS 
AND   TRAINING 

IN  1848  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  was  officially 
elected  Mistress  of  Novices.  She  had  for  several 
years  previously  fulfilled  that  charge,  and,  while 
Mother  Theodore  was  in  France,  she  had  also  been  en- 
trusted with  the  spiritual  care  of  the  entire  community. 
Next  to  the  conversion  of  sinners  nothing,  certainly, 
was  more  attractive  to  Irma's  activity  and  zeal  than  to 
lead  souls  to  perfection  and  the  love  of  Our  Lord.  Im- 
portant as  this  office  of  Novice-Mistress  was,  Sister 
Saint  Francis  did  not  in  any  of  her  letters  speak  of  her 
election ;  not  until  after  a  long  time,  when  she  knew  that 
Mother  Theodore  had  apprised  her  parents  of  it,  did  she 
refer  to  her  dear  novices, — those  beloved  children  whom 
she  cherished  with  the  tenderness  of  a  mother.  After 
her  death  one  of  her  novices  wrote :  "How  many  sorrow- 
stricken  Sisters  feel  they  have  lost  not  a  friend  only,  but 
a  mother,  a  mother  who  never  repelled  them,  one  in  whose 
bosom  they  could  deposit  their  most  secret  thoughts  and 
all  the  anxieties  of  their  hearts.  Her  room  like  her 
heart  was  always  open,  always  easy  of  access.  We 
could  present  ourselves  there  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or 
night.  Whether  she  was  sick  or  well  there  was  never 
any  difference  in  her  welcome.  She  received  every  one 
with  such  kindness  depicted  on  her  countenance  that  each 
one  felt  as  if  there  were  no  other  matter  requiring  her 
attention.  Our  sorrows  were  her  sorrows,  our  joys  her 

241 


242  IRMA,  MISTRESS  OF  NOVICES 

joys;  even  on  her  deathbed,  when  all  the  Sisters  were 
admitted  to  her  room,  being  unable  herself  to  speak  to 
one  of  us  whom  she  knew  to  be  troubled,  she  begged 
Mother  Theodore  to  hear  and  comfort  her." 

Another  novice  wrote:  "Oh!  how  easy  and  sweet  it 
was  to  live  with  her.  Things  painful  to  us  she  knew 
how  to  render  light  and  agreeable.  She  carried  our 
little  burdens,  or  at  least  helped  us  to  bear  them  when 
she  could  not  relieve  us  entirely.  If  she  perceived  a 
cloud  on  the  countenance  of  any  one  of  us,  she  gave  the 
troubled  one  a  light  touch  on  the  shoulder  as  a  sign  to 
follow  her  into  her  dear  little  room.  There  she  spoke  in 
such  a  way  that  the  wounds  of  the  heart  were  soon 
healed. 

"She  seemed  to  know  what  passed  in  our  souls,  and 
often  she  told  me  things  known  only  to  God  and  myself. 
The  week  before  her  last  illness  I  asked  to  make  my 
monthly  retreat,  as  I  had  been  obliged  to  omit  the  exer- 
cise on  the  day  appointed.  In  granting  this  permission, 
there  was  in  her  glance  something  that  I  cannot  explain. 
The  next  day  she  said  to  me,  'I  have  allowed  you  to  make 
your  retreat  to-day,  because  it  is  the  last  you  will  make 
with  me.'  She  then  spoke  of  several  things  which  would 
happen  to  me  after  her  death.  All  took  place  as  she 
predicted." 

From  Sister  Mary  Ambrose's  "Reminiscences"  *  we 
glean  many  delightful  details.  In  her  exquisite  way  she 
draws  this  fair  picture : 

"Holy,  lovable,  irresistibly  so,  Sister  Saint  Francis 
had  been  described  to  me — then  a  girl  of  eighteen — who 
had  chosen  the  religious  life,  and  was  awaiting  the  day 
when  I  should  see  my  longings  satisfied  in  the  blessed 

*  "Reminiscences,"  written  by  Sister  Mary  Ambrose  in  1916. 


SISTER  M.  AMBROSE'S  "REMINISCENCES"      243 

retreat  of  the  Novitiate.  Many  times  had  I  painted 
imaginary  portraits  of  my  future  Mistress.  I  had  made 
her  spirituelle,  haloed  with  sanctity,  charming,  ideal, 
with  beaming  eyes  and  smile. 

"It  was  the  evening  of  October  22,  1850.  The  sun 
was  declining  that  beautiful  autumn  day  when  I  arrived 
at  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  Peace,  celestial  peace, 
seemed  to  reign  in  this  woodland  retreat.  My  feet 
scarcely  touched  the  earth  as  I  eagerly  hastened  towards 
"Providence"  where,  awaiting  me  at  the  entrance,  stood 
a  Sister.  No  one  need  have  told  me  her  name.  What 
a  countenance  was  hers!  At  first  there  seemed  to  be 
no  features,  so  luminous  was  the  heavenly  expression. 
The  delicate  nose,  the  exquisite  lips  and  chin,  the  fine 
forehead,  the  clear,  transparent  complexion  were  illu- 
mined by  large  brown  eyes,  well  set,  and  lighted  with 
a  heavenly  sweetness  surely  God-given  to  draw  souls  to 
Himself. 

"Alas,  for  my  imaginary  portrait!  Vain  attempt  to 
picture  her  who  clasped  me  to  her  heart  in  that  first 
embrace  of  love.  Holy?  Yes,  sanctity  shone  in  her 
face,  but  it  was  a  sanctity  that  made  itself  all  things  to 
all  men  to  gain  all  to  Christ.  Fortunate  I,  to  have 
found  a  friend  for  time  and  for  eternity,  to  have  had  my 
lot  in  life  cast  with  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier. 

"Soon  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  my  favored  Sister 
novices.  Know  that  the  golden  age  lives  again  in  the 
Novitiate  of  every  religious  community.  Moreover, 
ours  was  a  Novitiate  with  a  saintly  Mistress.  We 
breathed  an  atmosphere  of  holiness  and  happiness,  and 
drank  joy  from  an  ever-flowing  fountain.  That  we 
were  human  and  young,  Sister  Saint  Francis  knew,  and 
she  was  human  and  youthful  with  us,  spiritualizing  our 
lives  and  guarding  us  with  the  mercy  and  love  of  the 


244     SISTER  M.  AMBROSE'S  "REMINISCENCES" 

Divine  Master  while  she  entered  into  our  recreations 
with  the  zest  of  a  child.  When  her  French  accent 
worked  merriment  in  the  novices,  she  enjoyed  their 
mirth.  And  when  the  mischievous  Sister  Seraphine, 
with  the  simplicity  of  a  child  would  ask,  'Sister,  what  do 
you  call  that  point  on  New  Providence?'  Sister  Saint 
Francis,  enjoying  the  fun,  would  answer,  'Ze  theefle 
(steeple)  you  mean?'  and  then  wait  good  humoredly 
till  after  some  minutes,  Sister  Seraphine,  wishing  to 
have  another  laugh  at  'Ze  theefle,'  would  repeat  her 
question. 

"In  our  little  circle  were  Germans,  Irish,  English, 
French,  and  Americans;  but  to  Sister  Saint  Francis, 
with  her  love  for  America  and  France,  we  were  all  sub- 
jects of  the  heavenly  kingdom,  and  she  prudently 
avoided  all  allusions  to  nationalities. 

"Our  feast  days  were  days  of  pure  delight.  Every 
recreation  was  a  golden  time,  but  a  time  we  always  em- 
ployed usefully.  Sister  Saint  Francis  was  ever  our 
model  for  industry.  At  the  noon  recreation  she  painted 
in  water  colors,  busily  plying  her  brush  as  she  amiably, 
even  merrily,  talked  and  laughed.  In  the  evening  she 
darned, — I  shall  not  say  how  well,  for  alas!  Sister  was 
not  nimble  with  the  needle, — but  faithful  at  least.  If 
we  loved  our  recreations  for  the  merry  times  we  had,  we 
loved  even  more,  for  their  spirit  of  divine  unction,  Sister 
Saint  Francis'  instructions.  Her  knowledge  of  the 
Scriptures,  of  Church  History,  and  of  the  lives  of  the 
Saints  was  remarkable.  She  was  particularly  devout  to 
Saint  Francis  Assisi  and  Saint  Thomas  Aquinas;  the 
latter  she  frequently  quoted  during  her  instructions. 
Many  were  the  impressive  stories  she  used  in  order  to 
illustrate  her  lessons.  While  speaking  of  true  zeal  for 
the  glory  of  God,  she  related  the  story  of  a  desolate 


SISTER  M.  AMBROSE'S  "REMINISCENCES"      245 

mother  who  mourned  the  wickedness  of  her  son.  When 
her  neighbors  tried  to  console  her,  by  telling  her  there 
were  many  other  mothers  that  had  far  more  wicked  sons 
than  hers,  the  good  mother  found  no  consolation  in  her 
misery,  but  only  sobbed  in  sorrow  that  God  was  of- 
fended: 'Oh,  would  to  God,  mine  were  the  only  one!' 

"Charity  was  a  favorite  theme  with  Sister  Saint 
Francis.  She  would  have  us  overlook  one  another's 
faults,  and  to  impress  upon  our  minds  this  virtue  of 
mercy,  she  related,  in  her  inimitably  interesting  manner, 
the  story  of  the  King  and  his  favorite  courtier.  After 
listening  to  the  tale,  which  the  bearers  eagerly  recounted 
of  the  courtier's  misdeed,  'Go/  said  the  King,  'and 
bring  me  a  full  history  of  all  the  good  my  courtier  has 
done,  and  compare  with  that  this  little  fault.'  Sister's 
sweetness  in  giving  reproof  was  winsomeness  itself. 
Ah !  those  who  lived  in  her  presence  basked  in  the  very 
sunshine  of  love  and  kindness. 

"Again  and  again  she  urged  us  to  lose  no  opportunity 
of  gaining  merit  and  of  profiting  by  the  inspirations  of 
grace.  'One  in  a  hundred,'  she  would  say,  'has  the 
inspiration  to  mortify  the  sight,  and  not  look  at  some- 
thing to  gratify  curiosity.  This  is  a  special  grace  given 
to  you  as  favored  children  of  God,  for  which  you  should 
be  thankful,  and  to  which  you  should  be  very  faithful.' 

"One  of  her  chief  delights  was  to  instruct  the  little 
children  of  the  village.  Her  tact  in  gaining  them  was 
a  lesson  to  us  all.  Despite  her  broken  English,  she 
made  herself  well  understood.  She  would  first  inquire 
about  their  pets — their  dogs,  and  cats,  and  horses,  and 
rabbits, — then  when  she  had  won  the  confidence  of  the 
poor  neglected  little  ones,  she  turned  their  thoughts  to 
her  lesson  in  Christian  Doctrine,  and  taught  them  about 
God,  about  our  Blessed  Savior  and  the  mysteries  of  our 


246     SISTER  M.  AMBROSE'S  "REMINISCENCES" 

Holy  Religion.  Nothing  was  more  beautiful  to  us  than 
the  visible  growth  of  the  souls  of  those  little  children 
under  the  benign  influence  of  Divine  Grace,  like  the  un- 
folding of  flowers  in  the  sunlight. 

"Sister's  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  to  the 
Saints,  especially  Saint  Joseph,  was  inspiring.  But 
how  describe  her  tender,  her  intense  love  of  Our  Lord 
in  the  Blessed  Sacrament?  During  prayer  she  seemed 
rapt  out  of  herself,  unconscious  of  her  surroundings ;  yet, 
there  was  nothing  repellant  about  her  seraphic  piety. 
Of  a  piece  with  her  union  with  God  were  her  constant 
gentleness,  her  patience  in  trials,  and  her  considerateness 
for  others. 

"One  of  the  greatest  pleasures  of  Sister  Saint  Francis 
was  to  know  that  her  spiritual  daughters  were  happy 
and  united  among  themselves.  She  could  not  endure  a 
sad  look,  a  somber  countenance,  for  she  desired  to  see 
them  gay  and  courageous.  'How  glad  I  am  that  our 

Sisters  of are  so  happy!'  she  one  day  remarked. 

'They  are  always  joyful  and  never  discouraged  by  their 
privations  and  sacrifices.  How  much  good  this  news 
does  me!  God  so  loves  joyful  hearts/ 

'You  would  love  these  dear  children  if  you  knew 
them,'  she  wrote,  'they  are  so  good.  But  they  need 
guidance.  How  pleased  I  should  be  to  have  some  per- 
sons of  solid  piety  to  assist  them!  They  lack  the  early 
education,  that  Christian  education  which  we  have  re- 
ceived so  liberally.  I  am  surprised  that  they  are  what 
they  are  with  so  little  religious  instruction.' 

"After  sixty-six  years  there  yet  remains  with  me  the 
impression  that  Sister  Saint  Francis'  chief  characteristic 
was  the  unconsciousness  of  her  own  holiness,  a  holiness 
that  edified,  but  never  rebuked  us,  never  made  us  un- 
natural or  uncomfortable.  Fortunately  for  us  young 


NOVITIATE  RECREATIONS  247 

Americans,  God  had  sent  us  a  saintly  woman  with  a 
cosmopolitan  spirit,  a  woman  so  unmeasured  in  His 
Divine  love  that  she  lived  in  its  elements  as  a  creature. 
All  her  actions  seemed  abreath  with  the  Divine  Spirit, 
so  that  she  might  have  said  'I  live  now,  not  I,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me.'  She  was,  indeed,  an  Apostolic  Woman."  l 

Irma,  as  we  have  seen,  became  a  child  again  with  her 
novices  and  postulants,  many  of  whom  were  not  older 
than  the  pupils.  She  knew  how  to  divert  and  amuse 
them,  and  she  told  them  the  stories  which  had  charmed 
her  young  brothers  and  sisters,  though  always  she 
adapted  her  narrative  to  the  religious  life  in  order  to 
benefit  their  souls. 

To  her  sister  Elvire  she  wrote: 

We  often  have  gay  recreations.  I  am  like  an  old  cat 
playing  with  her  kittens.  Pepa  predicted  that  to 
punish  me  for  my  dislike  for  dancing,  God  would  send 
me,  at  fifty,  a  passion  for  this  amusement.  If  she  saw 
me  at  thirty-four  playing  biribi  she  would  say,  "Well! 
the  first  part  of  my  prediction  is  accomplished."  My 
dearest  sisters,  when  there  is  singing  to  be  done,  how  I 
miss  you!  Dear  Elvire,  when  I  think  of  bad  teachers 
I  put  you  first.  My  beautiful  crepe  shawl  from  China, 
which  I  gave  you  all  too  soon,  did  not  even  touch  your 
heart;  but  you  were  very  young  then.  In  heaven  we 
shall  sing  together,  and  there  we  shall  have  no  difficulty 
either  in  listening  or  singing;  nothing  will  weary  us, 
nothing  displease  us.  Only  a  little  while  and  that  dear 
day  will  dawn  for  us. 

Sister  Saint  Francis,  we  see,  continued  to  regret 
having  no  voice.  Only  persons  occupied  with  the  young 
can  understand  how  much  singing  contributes  to  enliven 

i  Reference  is  here  made  to  the  title  of  the  book  under  which  the  life  of 
Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  was  first  published  in  English. 


248  NOVITIATE  RECREATIONS 

their  recreations,  and  how  one  is  often  inconvenienced 
when  deprived  of  this  powerful  auxiliary.  But  if  Sister 
Saint  Francis  could  not  learn  the  airs  of  songs,  she  could 
at  least  adapt  words  to  music.  Sometimes  she  took  a 
song  which  had  charmed  her  in  her  girlhood  days  and 
substituted  divine  for  profane  love.  She  also  composed 
for  the  orphan  asylum  a  hymn  on  the  duties  of  children, 
which,  through  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  Sadlier,  was  printed 
in  New  York,  and  afterwards  used  in  the  schools. 

It  happened  on  one  occasion  that  Sister  Saint  Francis 
would  not  refrain  from  making  herself  heard.  Of  the 
event  one  of  her  American  novices  wrote  in  very  im- 
perfect French:  "Once,  when  we  were  very  young, 
Sister  Saint  Francis  wished  us  to  sing  in  church  on 
Sunday;  but  we,  not  knowing  how  very  well,  were  not 
altogether  prompt  in  obeying.  She  then  stood  near  the 
one  who  sang  best  and  began  to  sing  with  all  the  force 
she  could  command.  Scarcely  had  she  begun  when  we 
sang  with  all  our  might,  so  as  to  drown  her  false  voice 
and  prevent  any  one  from  hearing  her.  We  found  out 
afterward  that  this  was  exactly  what  she  desired.  As 
soon  as  we  began  she  stopped." 

Irma  lost  no  opportunity  of  making  her  novices  prac- 
tice self-renunciation  and  detachment.  If  any  one 
among  them  showed  too  much  affection  for  an  object, 
she  was  immediately  deprived  of  it.  Among  the  songs 
brought  to  the  community,  probably  for  the  pupils,  she 
noticed  that  one  which  began  with  the  words, 

"Towards  the   shores   of   France 
Let  us  softly  sail." 

was  sung  with  too  much  expression.  Fearing  it  might 
reawaken  in  some  of  her  Sisters  a  dangerous  love  of 
country,  she  put  it  out  of  sight  without  even  speaking 
of  it.  Search  was  long  made  for  it,  but  in  vain. 


A  BRIGHT  EXAMPLE  249 

"As  soon  as  Sister  Saint  Francis  observed  that  one 
of  us  was  attached  to  her  place  in  the  dormitory,  she 
had  her  bed  carried  to  another  place,"  said  one  of  the 
novices.  "Sometimes  we  were  not  eight  days  without 
being  dislodged.  In  protest  we  pleaded  a  love  of 
silence,  which  might  be  violated  by  these  perpetual 
changes ;  but  she  did  not  allow  herself  to  be  deceived,  and 
continued  to  exercise  us  in  patience  and  renunciation." 

To  make  virtue  loved,  Sister  Saint  Francis  employed 
the  most  efficacious  means,  that  of  showing  forth  in  her- 
self an  example  of  what  she  taught  to  others.  Mother 
Theodore  had  told  her  to  close  the  curtains  when  the  sun 
came  into  her  room,  a  counsel  which  the  dear  Sister 
sometimes  forgot.  One  day  when  she  was  surrounded 
by  several  novices  and  postulants,  the  superior  entered 
and,  finding  the  window  open,  reproved  her  severely  for 
it.  She  showed  such  gratitude  and  joy  for  the  cor- 
rection that  the  novices  thought  Mother  Theodore  had 
given  this  reproof  to  their  Mistress  in  order  to  teach 
them  how  to  receive  correction. 

"Never  in  any  way  did  she  wound  charity,"  wrote  one 
of  the  Sisters  who  had  been  of  the  number  of  her  novices, 
"nor  would  she  suffer  it  to  be  wounded  in  her  presence. 
If  an  action  appeared  bad  under  ninety-nine  aspects,  she 
would  see  only  the  hundredth,  if  it  were  favorable. 
Those  with  whom  she  lived  are  witnesses  that  she  had 
the  rare  talent  of  turning  everything  into  good  and  of 
blinding  herself  to  the  bad." 

If  we  recall  how  often  Irma  in  her  youth  reproached 
herself  for  her  raillery  and  her  sharp  witticisms,  we  shall 
realize  that  her  unalterable  charity  was  the  fruit,  not  of 
nature,  but  of  grace.  Her  kind  indulgence,  however, 
did  not  degenerate  into  weakness,  for  she  never  yielded 
in  questions  of  duty. 


250  SISTER  MAURICE 

When  the  novices  she  had  formed  to  the  religious  life 
left  the  Mother  House  to  go  on  the  various  missions, 
Sister  Saint  Francis  did  not  lose  sight  of  them.  She  in- 
terested herself  in  their  labors,  their  successes,  their 
trials ;  and  as  she  could  no  longer  encourage  them  by  her 
words,  she  did  so  by  her  letters. 

To  ONE  OF  HER  RELIGIOUS  SISTERS 

The  kingdom  of  heaven  guffereth  violence 

"You  will  have  much  to  suffer,"  said  our  Savior  to 
His  Apostles,  "but  have  courage,  I  have  overcome  the 
world.  .  .  .  Yet  a  little  while  and  I  shall  take  you  with 
Me,  and  your  joy  no  one  shall  take  from  you."  My 
dear  Sister  Maurice,  remember  these  consoling  words: 
"Yet  a  little  while  and  I  will  take  you  with  me." 
When  Our  Lord  shall  have  taken  you  with  Him,  no  one 
will  trouble  your  joy ;  no  more  geography  to  prepare,  no 
more  weeks  to  watch  over  the  children;  you  will  be 
always  free,  always  happy.  Yet  a  little  while  and  this 
beautiful  day  will  come.  But  now  is  the  hour  of  com- 
bat. When  you  awake  in  the  morning,  consider  what 
crosses  Our  Lord  is  preparing  for  you,  and  say:  "I 
thank  you,  my  good  Jesus,  for  having  from  all  eternity 
prepared  these  little  trials  for  your  unworthy  child,  who 
deserves  only  the  false  praises  and  the  fleeting  pleasures 
of  earth — I  who  am  so  worldly  and  so  vain.  O  dear 
crosses !  I  kiss  you  all,  little  and  great.  What  must  I 
do  to  advance  on  my  journey?  How  many  miles  shall 
I  walk  to-day  towards  heaven?"  You  think  that  you 
would  arrive  more  quickly  going  on  foot  and  running 
with  all  your  might;  but  Our  Lord  has  shut  you  up  in 
the  vessel  of  obedience,  and,  though  you  are  thus  carried 
more  rapidly  towards  your  heavenly  home,  you  do  not 
perceive  it. 

When  the  love  of  liberty  assails  you,  think  of  Our 
Lord  wrapped  in  swathing  bands  by  the  Blessed  Virgin 
and  laid  in  a  manger.  He  could  not  even  move  His 
little  arms.  Think  also  of  the  chains  with  which  He  was 


DEATH  OF  SISTER  MARIE  JOSEPH  251 

bound,  and  ask  Him  by  this  suffering  He  endured  for 
you,  to  accept  the  sacrifice  of  your  liberty.  See  Him 
nailed  to  the  Cross;  He  could  not  even  wipe  away  a 
single  drop  of  blood  that  flowed  into  His  sacred  eyes. 
But  what  do  I  say,  my  dear  Sister?  I  need  not  send 
you  away  to  Jerusalem  to  find  Jesus  a  prisoner.  Look 
from  the  window  of  the  room  where  you  study,  and  you 
can  see  the  prison  of  Jesus.  How  narrow  the  taber- 
nacle is!  He  who  could  fly  among  the  stars  on  the 
wings  of  the  cherubim  is  enclosed  in  a  little  silver  vase! 
His  mortal  career  is  ended;  He  could  enjoy  the  privi- 
leges of  glorified  bodies,  and  for  you  He  sacrifices  them. 
Ask  Him  sometimes,  who  has  made  the  greater  sacrifice, 
He  in  the  tabernacle  or  you  in  your  employment? 

If  to  be  a  prisoner  for  you  is  not  enough,  He  will 
deliver  Himself  to  you,  and  in  Holy  Communion  will 
make  Himself  your  captive.  Will  you  still  regret  your 
liberty,  your  independence?  I  answer  for  you  to  Our 
Lord,  "No,  No."  Oh!  may  you  be  until  death  a  perfect 
victim  of  His  will  and  of  His  love. 

When  God  called  some  of  the  Sisters  to  Himself 
Irma,  though  rejoicing  at  their  happiness,  was  deeply 
afflicted  by  their  loss. 

Oh!  how  happy  we  shall  be  in  heaven  [she  wrote]. 
One  of  our  beloved  Sisters  has  just  gone  there.  She 
had  a  heart  of  gold,  or  rather  of  wax,  which  melted  at 
the  least  ray  of  celestial  heat.  Sister  Marie  Joseph  did 
much  good  during  her  ten  years  of  religious  life,  al- 
though she  entered  the  community  aged  and  delicate. 
She  died  so  holily,  so  joyfully,  that  it  would  tempt  the 
angels  to  wish  to  die.  I  felt  her  death  as  keenly  as  that 
of  Sister  Liguori,  but  the  loss  to  the  community  is  not 
so  great,  for  Sister  Liguori  was  young  and  strong. 
Sister  Marie  Joseph  was  much  like  Mother  Theodore. 
I  have  had  great  difficulty  in  resigning  myself  to  her 
death,  and  her  place  will  long  remain  vacant. 

During  one  of  her  journeys  Mother  Theodore,  fearing 


CONVERSIONS  TO  THE  FAITH 

that  Irma's  zeal  might  go  beyond  her  strength,  wrote 
forbidding  her  to  fatigue  herself  with  one  of  the  Sisters 
who  was  ill.  The  letter  having  reached  Saint  Mary -of  - 
the- Woods  only  after  the  Sister's  death,  Irma  wrote  im- 
mediately in  reply: 

My  beloved  Mother : — To-day  at  noon  you  learned  of 
the  death  of  our  poor  little  Sister.  I  seem  to  hear  you 
say,  "Sister  Saint  Francis  must  have  suffered  very  much 
during  these  last  few  days ;  she  is  not  reasonable.  Sis- 
ter Josephine  is  a  thousand  times  happier  now  than 
when  she  was  on  earth.  Later  in  life  she  might  perhaps 
have  had  many  temptations,  many  trials."  That  is 
true,  Mother,  and  if  you  could  peep  into  my  soul  you 
would  find  that  I  am  resigned,  even  grateful  to  God. 
I  have  thought  more  to-day  of  your  sorrow  than  of  my 
own,  because  it  is  very  hard  for  you  to  learn  through 
strangers  of  the  death  of  your  daughter,  a  daughter  so 
innocent  and  so  amiable.  I  have  thanked  God  that 
your  letter  reached  me  only  after  the  death  of  Sister 
Josephine,  for  perhaps,  despite  my  resolution  to  submit, 
I  might  have  interpreted  obedience  according  to  my 
personal  ideas,  and  I  have  been  able  at  least  to  thank 
Our  Lord  for  delivering  me  from  the  occasion  of  offend- 
ing Him.  Oh !  a  single  fault  avoided  is  better  even  than 
the  life  of  a  cherished  Sister. 

Not  only  to  the  absent  novices  did  Sister  Saint  Francis 
address  her  wise  counsels;  her  solicitude  followed  the 
pupils  of  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  who,  on  their  re- 
turn to  their  homes,  were  exposed  to  many  dangers. 
That  the  young  girls  thought  they  could  count  on  the 
interest  she  took  in  them,  this  fragment  of  a  letter  makes 
evident:  "We  have  had  three  baptisms,"  Irma  says. 
"One  of  the  converts,  who  is  twenty-four  years  old,  chose 
me  for  her  godmother.  I  asked  her  the  reason  of  her 
choice,  not  knowing  any  myself.  'When  I  shall  need 
religious  instruction,'  she  replied,  'I  shall  write  to  you, 


MARTHA  BRETT  253 

and  I  am  sure  that  my  dear  Sister  Saint  Francis  will 
answer.' '  The  young  lady's  confidence  was  certainly 
not  misplaced,  as  is  seen  from  the  letter  that  follows: 

My  dear  Martha,1  your  letter  is  very  nice  and  very 
affectionate;  yet  I  find  in  it  a  slight  deviation  from 
truth.  True,  your  expression,  "I  have  no  time,"  is 
often  given  and  accepted  in  excuse,  but  you  know  that  I 
expect  more  from  you  than  from  many  others  in  the 
matter  of  true  simplicity.  If  really  you  had  no  time  to 
write,  I  should  rejoice  that  all  your  hours  were  well 
employed — no  time  for  reading  novels,  no  time  for 
vain  conversation  and  dangerous  pleasures.  Oh!  how 
pleased  I  should  be  if  it  were  thus ;  but  I  fear  you  find 
time  to  wound  your  soul,  for  your  last  letter  showed 
signs  of  suffering  and  weakness.  You  are  right  in  say- 
ing it  is  difficult  to  practice  virtue  in  the  world,  the  spirit 
of  which  is  so  different  from  that  of  Jesus.  To-morrow 
this  divine  Jesus  will  repeat  to  you  by  the  mouth  of  His 
ministers,  "Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,"  and  the  world 
says,  "Blessed  are  they  that  enjoy  themselves."  Jesus 
says,  "Blessed  are  the  poor;  blessed  are  they  that  suf- 
fer," etc.,  and  the  world,  "Blessed  are  the  rich;  blessed 
are  they  that  are  esteemed  and  applauded." 

Yes,  it  is  difficult  to  be  good  in  the  world;  but  the 
recompense  will  be  greater  for  the  soul  that  serves  God 
courageously  amid  trials.  If  Daniel  had  remained  at 
Jerusalem,  he  would  never  have  manifested  so  openly 
his  love  for  the  law  of  God  as  he  did  among  the  dangers 
of  an  idolatrous  court.  Lift  up  your  depressed  heart, 
my  dear  child;  God  is  near  to  assist  you.  When  the 
flames  of  worldly  pleasures  rise  around  your  senses, 
even  though  they  are  as  high  as  those  of  the  furnace  into 
which  the  three  Israelites  were  thrown,  if  you  pray  to 
Our  Lord  with  confidence,  He  will  send  His  angels  to 
protect  you  from  their  pernicious  influence. 

i  We  learn  from  the  diary  of  Mother  Theodore  that  the  young  lady 
addressed  was  Miss  Martha  Brett.  She  entered  the  community  soon  after 
the  death  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  and  was  known  in  religion  as  Sister  Mary 
Esther.— Ed. 


COUNSELS  TO  YOUNG  WOMEN 

It  is  very  necessary  for  you  to  take  each  day  a  few 
minutes  to  read  and  reflect  upon  the  truths  of  faith.  I 
approve  of  your  imposing  on  yourself  at  least  three 
minutes  of  reflection;  but  I  hope  you  have  said,  "It  shall 
never  be  less,  but  sometimes  more."  Do  not  fear  that 
by  prolonging  the  time  a  little  you  will  be  unfaithful  to 
your  promise.  You  are  young,  my  dear  Martha,  and 
the  world  has  many  attractions  for  you;  be  firm  in  the 
resolution  to  save  your  soul,  whatever  be  the  price. 
Here  our  Catholic  pupils  taste  the  sweetness  of  the 
Lord's  yoke ;  but  when  they  leave  our  peaceful  forest  the 
world  offers  them  its  pleasures  and  its  charms.  They 
would  like  to  give  themselves  up  to  them,  yet  at  the  same 
time  preserve  that  fervor  and  peace  which  accompany 
piety.  That  cannot  be ;  a  divided  heart  cannot  be  tran- 
quil, and  if  God  is  not  the  principle  of  our  joy,  it  will 
ever  be  mingled  with  sadness. 

You  were  regretting  the  other  day  that  you  were  not 
with  your  companions  to  hear  my  usual  instruction; 
and  see,  without  intending  it  I  am  giving  you  one.  Yes, 
again  and  again  I  repeat  to  my  young  listeners:  Hap- 
piness, even  on  earth,  is  found  only  in  the  faithful  dis- 
charge of  our  duty  and  in  accomplishing  the  holy  will 
of  God. 

To  one  of  her  cousins  she  writes : 

Perhaps,  dear  Cecile,  you  will  receive  this  letter  for 
your  patronal  feast  which  I  hope  may  be  auspicious  and 
bright  for  you,  likewise  for  my  aunt  and  my  sister. 
Well  do  I  remember,  dear  cousin,  how  pleasantly  we 
used  to  spend  the  eve  of  your  feast  day.  Though  all 
these  innocent  joys  are  now  past  for  your  Irma,  God 
gives  others  sweeter  still  to  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier. 

Do  not  think  you  had  not  spoken  enough  of  me  in 
your  letter ;  it  was  much  more  interesting  to  hear  about 
yourself.  My  dear  child, — you  see  I  still  give  you  your 
old  title, — God  will  take  care  of  you  if  you  abandon 
yourself  entirely  to  Him.  I  say  entirely,  without  wish- 
ing to  keep  for  yourself  His  heavenly  consolations,  not 


COUNSELS  TO  YOUNG  WOMEN  255 

even  His  peace,  if  it  is  His  will  to  take  it  away.  This 
is  easily  said,  I  know.  But  to  carry  it  into  execution, 
we  must  go  to  Jesus  in  the  Holy  Eucharist.  He  has 
never  refused  me  anything.  Tell  Him  that  I  sent  you, 
and  that  I  have  promised  you  His  assistance.  Tell  Him 
that  you  no  longer  wish  to  be  concerned  about  yourself, 
that  you  renounce  the  desire  to  find  peace,  that  you  wish 
for  Him  and  Him  alone.  Oh !  how  happy  you  then  will 
be!  Peace,  trouble,  will  be  equally  welcome,  since  you 
will  be  content  even  to  be  miserable,  if  God  wills  it. 
Your  soul  will  then  repose  in  this  thought:  "You,  my 
Jesus,  are  happy,  You  are  eternally  happy.  Your  soul 
is  no  longer,  like  that  of  Your  poor  child,  subject  to 
sadness  and  trouble.  You  experienced  both  when  You 
were  on  earth;  remember,  it  was  through  love  for  me." 
Then  you  will  rejoice  that  He  •whom  you  love  more  than 
yourself  is  forever  delivered  from  the  anguish  which 
overwhelms  you.  Yes,  let  your  heart  indulge  this  sweet 
thought,  "God  is  happy!"  and  then  endeavor  to  con- 
tribute to  His  glory  by  all  the  means  in  your  power. 
You  are  too  much  afraid  of  losing  peace  and  recollec- 
tion. What  have  poor  little  creatures  like  us  to  lose? 
He  who  has  nothing  can  lose  nothing.  I  would  wish  for 
you  more  expansion  of  soul.  Yet  you  must  not  imitate 
me,  for  I  went  too  far;  but  with  your  disposition  there 
is  no  danger.  Think,  then,  more  of  hating  your  faults 
than  of  confessing  them,  and  be  sorry  for  having  dis- 
pleased God  rather  than  because  you  have  injured  your 
soul. 

Go  to  Jesus  with  confidence.  He  is  so  good  and  loves 
you  so  much.  Speak  of  Him  among  yourselves,  not 
out  of  vanity  nor  to  display  your  virtue,  but  because  He 
is  infinitely  lovable.  If  one  of  you  were  thinking  of 
coming  to  Vincennes,  she  would  like  to  talk  about  Vin- 
cennes.  Well!  you  intend  to  go  to  heaven,  and  Jesus 
is  the  bishop  of  that  diocese.  Speak  of  it,  therefore,  to 
Him  very  often,  for  He  alone  knows  the  road  that  will 
lead  you  there. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WORKS  OF   CHARITY  AND   ZEAL 

DESPITE  Irma's  poor  health  and  her  charge  of 
the  postulants  and  novices,  she  did  not  fail  to 
exercise  her  zeal  outside  the  house,  as  often  as 
opportunity  presented  itself.  When  her  health  per- 
mitted, she  made  visits  to  the  village  to  instruct  and  to 
comfort,  sometimes  to  seek  out  negligent  neighbors. 
When  she  was  on  one  of  these  errands  of  charity,  a 
young  man  hid  from  her  in  the  garden,  but  a  glance  of 
his  wife  helped  Irma  to  find  him.  Then  she  reproached 
him  kindly:  "Is  my  dear  John  afraid  of  me?  How 
could  he  think  of  hiding  and  running  away  ?  Alas !  has 
he,  then,  no  good  news  for  me?"  And  the  culprit  hung 
his  head  and  twisted  his  hat  in  his  hand,  blushing  and 
smiling  at  the  same  time  because  she  had  discovered  him. 

"To  labor  for  the  conversion  of  sinners  is  a  work  re- 
quiring perseverance  and  courage,"  she  often  said;  "I 
have  always  had  more  devotion  than  talent  for  this  beau- 
tiful work,  but  my  failures  have  never  disheartened  me." 

No  doubt  Sister  Saint  Francis  sometimes  saw  that 
her  most  persuasive  words  were  without  effect,  that  her 
hopes  were  unfounded,  that  her  pious  plans  were  but 
illusions;  yet  she  tells  us  she  never  became  discouraged, 
for  she  knew  that  God  holds  all  hearts  in  His  hands  and 
that  all  things  are  obtained  by  prayer.  When  sinners 
seemed  unwilling  to  listen  to  her,  she  prayed  and  asked 
prayers ;  and  frequently  Our  Lord  granted  her  what  she 
most  desired  in  this  world,  the  happiness  of  contributing 

256 


GAINING  SOULS  TO  CHRIST  257 

to  the  salvation  of  souls.     Her  next  letter  continues  on 
this  subject: 

One  of  our  pupils  who  cannot  obtain  the  consent  of 
her  family  to  her  receiving  baptism,  left  a  little  note 
begging  me  to  ask  the  prayers  of  Monsieur  Dupont  and 
the  associates  of  the  Nocturnal  and  Perpetual  Adora- 
tion. Seven  young  persons  here  who  have  already  so- 
licited favors  through  their  intercession  have  been  heard. 
Please  tell  this  to  our  dear  friends.  One  asked  the  con- 
version of  her  brother,  the  editor  of  a  newspaper.  I 
have  seen  this  man  since  and  his  conversation  singularly 
edified  me.  He  now  wears  the  scapular,  and  he  is  the 
model  of  the  city  in  which  he  resides.  For  twenty-five 
years  he  had  not  been  to  confession.  A  thousand 
thanks  for  your  prayers. 

Another  asked  for  the  conversion  of  her  infidel  father, 
and  he  died  last  year  in  the  bosom  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Pray,  pray  always.  Prayer  takes  cities  and 
conquers  citadels  held  by  the  demon  for  many  years. 
Many  of  our  poor  sinners  are  yet  resisting,  but  per- 
severance in  our  prayers  will  save  them. 

In  the  village  of  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  Irma 
knew  a  young  girl  who  for  several  years  had  been  de- 
sirous of  embracing  the  religious  life,  but  was  not  able 
to  do  so  because  of  her  mother's  unwillingness  to  make 
the  sacrifice.  God  wished  this  young  heart  and  sent  the 
girl  a  severe  illness  which  endangered  her  life.  Already 
she  had  lost  her  sight,  and  her  speech  partially,  when 
her  mother,  imploring  Our  Lord  not  to  take  away  her 
child,  promised  to  allow  her  to  follow  her  vocation  if 
her  life  were  spared.  Her  prayer  was  heard,  and  her 
daughter  would  in  a  few  days  have  been  well  enough  to 
enter  the  novitiate,  when  one  of  her  sisters,  who  lived 
in  the  South,  arrived  at  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods. 
She  had  heard  of  the  convalescent's  pious  design  and 


258  A  VOCATION  IN  DANGER 

came  in  all  haste  to  dissuade  her  from  her  purpose.  En- 
tirely taken  up  with  the  world  and  its  pleasures,  she  left 
untried  no  means  of  drawing  her  sister  into  the  path  she 
herself  followed.  She  pictured  attractively  the  gayety 
and  charm  of  social  life  and  the  pleasure  her  sister  would 
find  in  the  exciting  events  which  made  her  own  life  so 
fascinating.  She  tempted  her  with  lovely  jewels  and 
beautiful  clothes,  and  finally  succeeded  in  shaking  her 
resolution.  She  was,  moreover,  determined  that  as  soon 
as  her  sister's  strength  permitted,  she  would  take  her 
back  to  the  South  to  share  in  her  own  worldly  life. 

The  Sister  of  Providence  who  was  attending  the  sick 
girl  related  what  then  occurred:  "On  learning  of  the 
dispositions  of  this  young  girl,  in  whom  she  was  deeply 
interested,  Sister  Saint  Francis  hastily  took  her  shawl 
and  wooden  shoes,  and,  though  her  delicate  health 
scarcely  permitted  her  to  leave  her  room,  she  started  off 
with  a  speed  I  had  not  believed  her  capable  of,  telling 
me  to  follow  her.  She  walked  so  rapidly  that  I  could 
hardly  keep  pace  with  her.  The  weather  was  very 
cold,  the  roads  uneven  and  frozen,  and  Sister  Saint 
Francis  lost  one  of  her  sabots,  without  seeming  to  be 
conscious  of  it.  I  picked  it  up  and  wished  her  to  put 
it  on,  but  she  was  not  willing  to  pause  even  for  a  moment. 
'What  matter?' she  said.  'Let  us  hasten.  On  the  brink 
of  a  precipice  there  is  a  soul  for  whom  Our  Lord  has  shed 
His  precious  blood,  and  we  must  save  this  soul.'  She 
had  a  long  conversation  with  the  sick  girl,  and  made  her 
see  the  dangers  to  which  she  would  expose  herself  by 
imitating  her  sister's  worldly  life.  From  that  moment 
the  girl  thought  only  of  consecrating  herself  entirely  to 
God,  and  the  next  day  she  was  brought  in  a  carriage  to 
Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods.  She  died  two  years  after 
her  religious  profession."1 

*  Sister  Clementine  Monaghan. 


CONVERSIONS  259 

While  Irma  was  replacing  for  a  short  time  a  sick 
Sister  in  Vincennes,  duty  called  her  one  day  to  that  part 
of  the  city  named  by  the  Creoles  "French  Town."  On 
hearing  that  there  were  many  sick  in  the  neighborhood 
she  visited  them,  meeting  among  others  a  young  girl, 
eighteen  years  old,  a  victim  of  consumption,  who,  un- 
aware of  the  gravity  of  her  affliction,  was  living  in 
culpable  neglect  of  her  religious  duties.  Irma  spoke  to 
her  so  impressively  of  the  happiness  of  suffering  for  God 
and  of  the  great  merit  she  could  acquire  if  she  were  in  a 
state  of  grace,  that  the  sweet  and  affectionate  words 
touched  the  heart  of  this  poor  child.  She  went  to  con- 
fession the  next  day,  and  a  few  days  later  ended  her 
life  by  a  holy  death. 

There  lived  near  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods  an  old 
Lutheran  lady  who  had  great  veneration  for  Sister  Saint 
Francis,  and  at  the  same  time  such  great  confidence  in 
her  that  she  made  known  to  her  not  only  her  good  ac- 
tions, but  also  her  faults.  One  day  she  confessed  to 
Sister  that,  having  noticed  that  the  turkeys  belonging  to 
the  community  had  gone  astray,  she  had  driven  them 
into  her  own  yard,  and  had  cooked  and  eaten  them  one 
after  another;  as  she  did  this  to  prevent  any  one  from 
stealing  them  and  as  she  had  acknowledged  it,  she  could 
not  be  made  to  understand  that  it  was  theft.  For  a  long 
time  Irma  instructed  her  in  the  doctrines  of  the  Catholic 
religion  and  urged  her  to  receive  baptism;  but  all  in 
vain.  At  last,  however,  her  prayers  were  rewarded; 
the  old  lady  made  her  abjuration,  received  the  sacra- 
ments with  much  faith,  and  died  blessing  the  one  to 
whom,  after  God,  she  owed  this  happiness.  When 
Sister  Saint  Francis  was  teased  about  her  proselyte,  she 
sought  to  make  allowances  on  the  ground  of  ignorance, 
but  acknowledged  that  the  old  lady  had  gained  heaven 


260  CONVERSIONS 

very  cheap;  "and,"  she  added,  "she  has  even  taken  our 
turkeys  with  her  to  paradise." 

Irma  rejoices  over  another  conquest:  "I  have  just 
had  the  sweet  consolation  [she  says]  of  appreciating  the 
power  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  obtaining  the  grace  of 
conversion.  A  person  who  had  lived  from  childhood  in 
a  state  of  mortal  sin,  was  yet  accustomed  to  recite  the 
rosary  every  Saturday  in  honor  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
and  wore  the  miraculous  medal.  Animated  by  senti- 
ments of  faith  and  confidence,  she  at  last  received  the 
scapular.  O  goodness  of  Mary  for  poor  sinners! 
Three  days  afterwards  this  soul,  so  long  unfaithful,  was 
vanquished  by  grace  and  is  now  filled  with  gratitude  and 
fervor.  The  missionary  who  heard  her  general  confes- 
sion is  persuaded  that  she  owes  her  salvation  to  the 
practice  of  reciting  the  rosary." 

Sister  Saint  Francis,  entreated  on  all  sides  for 
prayers,  forgot  occasionally  to  make  special  mention  to 
God  of  the  sinners  recommended  to  her.  A  priest  at 
Terre  Haute  often  came  to  ask  her  prayers  for  the 
salvation  of  certain  hardened  sinners  of  his  congrega- 
tion. "I  have  many  old  serpents  under  the  rocks,"  he 
would  say  to  her;  "recite  the  thousand  Aves  for  them, 
that  God  may  touch  their  hearts,  for  I  can  do  nothing 
more."  She  promised  to  pray  and  ask  others  to  pray, 
but  sometimes  she  forgot.  Nevertheless,  the  good  priest 
would  return  shortly  after  to  thank  her  and  to  rejoice 
with  her  at  the  conversions  she  had  obtained.  With 
much  confusion  and  humility  she  acknowledged  that  she 
had  forgotten  her  promise  and  refused  the  thanks  she 
had  not  merited.  Our  Lord  had  acted  towards  her  as 
He  had  toward  St.  Gertrude,  to  whom  He  granted  all 
the  graces  she  had  the  intention  of  asking. 

Though    Irma    devoted    herself    especially    to    the 


VISITING  THE  SICK  AND  THE  POOR         261 

spiritual  works  of  mercy,  she  did  not  neglect  any  of  the 
temporal  services  in  her  power,  as  she  considered  these 
a  means  of  drawing  to  God  persons  in  whom  she  was  in- 
terested. One  day  she  heard  that  a  sick  person  living 
far  from  the  village  was  in  need  of  assistance.  Unable 
to  find  a  driver  for  the  community  carriage,  she  took  a 
Sister  with  her  and  undertook  to  drive  the  horse  herself, 
or  rather,  she  trusted  to  his  instinct  and  let  him  go  where 
he  would.  The  road  was  bad ;  they  passed  over  trunks 
of  trees,  and  got  out  of  one  rut  only  to  get  into  another. 
Near  the  house  of  the  sick  person  the  reins  fell  from 
Irma's  hands  and  became  so  twisted  about  the  horse's 
feet,  that  he  was  on  the  point  of  falling  down  in  a  marsh 
through  which  they  were  passing.  Irma's  companion 
was  not  more  expert  than  herself,  and  both  began  to 
scream  and  to  pray  for  help  from  God  and  man. 
Fortunately,  Mr.  Roquet,  the  sick  woman's  husband, 
heard  their  cries,  and  with  the  assistance  of  a  neighbor, 
succeeded  in  rescuing  them.  Irma  accomplished  her 
charitable  mission,  and  remembered  her  fright  only  to 
laugh  over  it  with  her  companions. 

The  following  incident  shows  that  seeming  impos- 
sibilities did  not  hinder  her.  She  had  no  knowledge 
whatever  of  medicine.  One  day  when  the  Sister-infir- 
marian  was  absent,  a  poor  woman  came  to  get  a  remedy 
for  her  husband  who  was  suffering  from  fever.  Being 
asked  by  the  Sisters  whether  they  should  send  the  woman 
away,  Sister  Saint  Francis  replied,  "No,  no,  not  at  all; 
she  would  be  displeased.  I  shall  prepare  a  potion  for 
her" ;  and  taking  two  pieces  of  loaf  sugar  and  an  equal 
amount  of  gum  arabic,  "Dissolve  this,"  she  said,  "in  a 
pint  of  fresh  water,  and  give  your  husband  half  a 
glassful  morning  and  evening.  This  will  do  him  good." 
The  woman  went  off  delighted.  A  few  days  later  she 


262  INTEREST  IN  LITTLE  BOYS 

returned  asking  work  for  her  husband,  whose  fever  had 
been  checked  and  health  restored  by  the  prescription  of 
Sister  Saint  Francis. 

It  will  probably  be  remembered  that  in  France  Irma 
had  a  partiality  for  taking  care  of  little  boys.  She  had 
not  lost  this  attraction  in  America,  and  her  greatest 
happiness  was  to  be  with  them. 

Our  dear  superior  is  at  Vincennes  to  open  an  orphan 
asylum  for  boys1  [Irma  wrote  in  1851].  As  one  of 
the  dreams  of  my  youth  was  to  care  for  little  orphan 
boys,  Mother  Theodore  supposes  it  will  be  very  difficult 
to  keep  me  at  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  especially  if 
the  bishop  carries  out  a  project  which  to  me  is  still 
sweeter,  namely,  that  of  entrusting  to  us  the  instruction 
of  the  little  negroes.  Mother  declares  they  will  have  to 
build  a  railroad  between  here  and  Vincennes,  so  that  I 
may  visit  them  often.  It  is  a  great  pity  to  have  such  a 
weakness  at  my  age. 

Her  next  letter  says: 

Our  little  boys,  forty  in  number,  are  doing  nicely. 
They  pray  for  you  with  great  fervor.  I  do  not  know 
when  we  shall  begin  our  school  for  the  negroes,  for  I 
find  very  few  who  wish  to  help  us.  The  poor  negroes 
are  not  in  high  esteem  in  this  country.  Still,  two  of 
our  postulants  have  offered  themselves  for  the  work,  and 
we  shall  take  Father  Peter  Claver  for  our  patron. 

After  a  few  more  months  Sister  could  write: 

At  last  my  desires  are  about  to  be  realized.  Bishop 
de  Saint  Palais  is  to  begin  a  class  for  the  negroes  and  to 
build  a  church  for  them.  Dr.  Batty,  a  French  physi- 
cian, will  give  part  of  the  necessary  funds.  A  priest 
from  the  diocese  of  Saint  Brieuc  will  be  their  chaplain. 

i  This  was  the  first  of  the  kind  in  Indiana.  The  cholera  in  1849  had  taken 
away  so  many  parents  that  the  little  children  had  to  be  cared  for  by  the 
diocese. 


INTEREST  IN  LITTLE  BOYS  263 

Our  Sisters  will  have  charge  of  the  school,  and  soon,  I 
hope,  these  poor  negroes  will  become  Catholics. 

Of  the  two  houses  conducted  by  the  Sisters  in  Vin- 
cennes,  Irma  during  the  months  she  spent  there  chose  the 
Orphanage  for  her  place  of  residence.  It  was  so  poor 
that  the  Sisters  were  often  in  want  of  the  necessaries  of 
life,  which  fact  of  itself  would  lead  Irma  to  give  it  her 
preference;  but,  in  addition,  she  could  have  the  ad- 
vantage here  of  being  with  her  dear  little  boys.  They 
would  all  crowd  around  her,  each  one  eager  to  let  her  see 
how  well  he  knew  his  catechism,  or  his  prayers.  It  was 
her  custom  to  ask  these  poor  children  what  they  knew 
of  their  former  life;  her  tender  interest  in  their  recital 
made  it  a  pleasure  for  them  to  tell  her  the  story  of  their 
earlier  years.  And  they  did  not  forget  her  after  her 
departure;  they  spoke  frequently  of  her  and  expressed 
their  desire  to  see  her  again. 

As  the  Cathedral  was  a  considerable  distance  from 
the  asylum,  a  resident  of  Vincennes  sent  his  carriage  to 
take  Irma  to  make  a  visit  there.  One  of  the  Sisters  ac- 
companied her,  but  there  was  still  a  vacant  seat  in  the 
carriage.  Irma  called  a  poor  little  hunchback  who 
walked  with  so  much  difficulty  and  pain  that  he  could 
never  go  with  the  other  children  to  church  or  on  their 
excursions.  She  had  him  sit  near  her,  took  him  to  visit 
the  church,  made  him  say  his  prayers  there,  and  ex- 
plained the  pictures  to  him ;  then  she  had  him  taken  back 
to  the  asylum  in  the  carriage,  while  she  returned  on  foot. 
The  little  cripple,  happy  and  proud,  laughed  at  the 
jealousy  of  his  companions,  who  called  him  the  gentle- 
man. The  Sisters  also  jested  with  Sister  Saint  Francis 
on  the  object  of  her  choice,  expressing  their  regret  at 
not  having  a  hump  in  order  to  win  her  preference. 

At  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods  whenever  the  boys  who 


264  INTEREST  IN  LITTLE  BOYS 

lived  in  the  neighborhood  moved  away  from  the  village, 
they  never  failed  to  pay  Sister  Saint  Francis  a  farewell 
visit.  She  always  found  time  to  see  them,  and  besides 
good  advice,  she  gave  them  books,  medals,  etc. 

Once  when  she  was  confined  to  bed  by  one  of  her 
severe  headaches,  a  family  who  were  leaving  for  Cali- 
fornia came  to  say  good-by.  The  Sisters  did  not  dare 
dismiss  them  without  informing  Sister  Saint  Francis. 
She  raised  her  head  and  rubbed  her  eyes  to  try  to  keep 
them  open.  "Oh!  yes,"  she  said,  "my  Lorenzo,  my 
Lucy ;  I  must  see  them.  I  must  speak  to  them  and  see 
whether  they  have  been  to  confession.  Give  me  some 
pictures  and  medals."  She  apparently  forgot  her  suf- 
ferings while  occupied  with  the  interests  of  these  poor 
people.  This  family  was  shipwrecked  on  the  way  to 
California,  and  it  was  believed  that  all  had  perished. 
Six  years  afterward,  however,  a  letter  came  to  Saint 
Mary-of -the- Woods  from  Lorenzo,  who  wrote  to  inquire 
about  his  old  instructress.  Mother  Theodore  used  to 
say,  smiling,  "To  know  when  Sister  Saint  Francis 
should  be  prepared  for  the  last  sacraments  I  need  only 
say  to  her,  'There  is  a  boy  downstairs  who  wishes  to 
speak  to  you.'  Should  she  not  reply,  'Let  him  come  up,' 
I  shall  have  no  doubt  that  she  is  at  the  last  extremity, 
and  that  we  must  send  for  the  priest  at  once." l 

A  day  came,  however,  when  Sister  Saint  Francis  had 
to  relinquish  this  attraction  for  her  brothers  of  all  na- 
tions, in  order  to  follow  an  interior  conviction  in  favor 
of  her  own  sex.  This  was  when  Father  Dupontavice 

i  Many  years  after  Irma's  death  Elvire,  who  had  joined  her  sister  at  Saint 
Mary-of-the-Woods,  wrote:  "One  day  I  was  surprised  to  see  a  young  man 
of  about  thirty,  pause  and  look  at  me  intently  without,  however,  addressing 
me — conduct  not  at  all  according  to  American  usage.  I  learned  afterwards 
that  he  was  the  little  Simeon  of  whom  Irma  spoke  in  one  of  her  letters.  He 
had  perceived  in  me  some  resemblance  to  his  former  teacher,  and  he  would 
not  go  on  his  way  without  looking  a  few  seconds  and  finding  out  who  I  might 
be." 


THE  QUESTION  OF  BOYS'  SCHOOLS  265 

applied  to  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods  for  religious  to 
take  charge  of  his  boys'  school.  He  wrote  to  Sister 
Saint  Francis:  "I  have  often  spoken  to  our  bishop  of 
a  dream  which  I  beg  God  to  bring  to  realization;  it  is 
that  our  boys  and  girls  of  Madison  may  be  under  the 
care  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence.  If  I  can  see  this  be- 
fore I  die,  I  shall  be  happy  and  depart  in  peace,  hoping 
for  the  fidelity  of  future  generations  in  our  dear  In- 
diana." 

"Our  letters  have  crossed  each  other,"  he  wrote  again 
shortly  after.  "Did  I  tell  you  that  I  have  at  last  gained 
the  victory,  and  that  Mother  Theodore  has  promised  me 
Sisters  of  Providence  for  my  boys'  school?  The  Blessed 
Virgin  has  obtained  this  favor  for  me.  I  shall,  in  a  few 
years,  have  little  gentlemen  as  pious  as  my  little  ladies. 
Pray,  then,  and  ask  prayers,  so  that  I  can  procure  money 
to  establish  permanently  the  schools  for  my  children; 
that  not  only  mine,  but  all  in  our  diocese,  may  be  con- 
ducted in  the  paths  of  religion  and  piety  by  the  Sisters 
of  Providence.  You  should  have  heard  my  eloquence 
in  pleading  the  cause  of  my  boys .  Sister  Mary  Joseph 
wondered  at  me,  the  bishop  laughed,  and  Mother 
Theodore  surrendered." 

In  supposing  that  Mother  Theodore  had  yielded  to  his 
earnest  and  pressing  solicitations,  Father  Dupontavice 
had  interpreted  according  to  his  own  desires,  Mother's 
answer  regarding  his  future  schools.  In  reality  she  had 
only  promised  to  consult  the  Sisters  and  to  take  their 
advice  on  a  point  which  was  contrary  to  the  Rule — that 
the  Sisters  of  Providence  should  take  charge  of  schools 
for  girls  only,  unless  in  case  of  absolute  necessity.  It 
fell  to  Irma  to  apprise  the  pastor  of  Madison  of  the  de- 
cision of  the  Sisters.  Her  letter  said : 

You  are  well  enough  acquainted  with  our  Mother  to 


266          THE  QUESTION  OF  BOYS'  SCHOOLS 

know  that  her  zeal  does  not  recoil  before  any  personal 
sacrifice,  and  that  her  desires  are  in  advance  of  her  ac- 
tions when  there  is  question  of  obliging  any  one.  When 
she  commissions  me  to  say  that  it  is  impossible  for  her 
to  accept  your  boys'  school,  be  assured  that  it  costs  her 
very  much  thus  to  destroy  your  pious  and  cherished 
hopes.  You  know  Mother  promised  to  speak  to  the 
Sisters  about  your  request.  Everywhere  she  went  they 
showed  the  most  positive  reluctance  to  the  community's 
taking  charge  of  a  school  of  this  kind,  since  it  is  not 
according  to  our  custom,  and  since  there  are  still  so 
many  places  in  Indiana  where  the  little  girls  have  not 
yet  the  advantages  of  a  Sisters'  school. 

Mother  returned  from  Fort  Wayne  in  a  very  suffer- 
ing condition,  but  I  believe  that  her  illness  is  less  painful 
than  having  to  announce  to  you  a  determination  which 
will  grieve  you,  and  to  respond  by  a  refusal  to  your 
confidence  which  is  very  precious  to  us.  For  myself,  I 
could  to-day  say  with  a  certain  Roman  emperor: 
"Would  I  had  never  learned  to  write."  I  must  ac- 
knowledge that  my  heart  wept  when  my  conscience 
made  me  say:  "My  conviction  is  that  we  should  not 
accept  the  boys" — I  who  so  much  love  these  poor  chil- 
dren. We  can  at  least  make  a  novena  to  the  Hearts  of 
Jesus  and  Mary,  so  tender  and  inventive,  that  they  may 
procure  for  the  boys  a  Christian  education. 

To  this  letter,  which  did  indeed  make  impossible  one 
of  his  most  cherished  projects,  Father  Dupontavice 
replied :  "What !  my  desires,  my  hopes  of  seven  years, 
which  I  thought  crowned  with  success,  are  they  now 
frustrated?  I  am  not  ashamed  to  acknowledge  it,  my 
eyes  are  wet  with  tears.  The  house  was  prepared  near 
that  of  your  Sisters.1  Yesterday  I  was  happy.  .  .  . 
Oh!  yes,  beg  the  inventive  Heart  of  Jesus  to  send  me 
other  daughters  of  His  holy  Church  to  tend  these  young 
plants  so  precious  in  His  sight." 

iThe  Sisters  of  Providence  had  a  school  at  Madison,  Indiana,  for  girls 
only. 


LETTER  TO  EUGENE  267 

This  chapter  may  be  fittingly  brought  to  a  close  by 
the  only  letter  we  find  written  to  any  of  her  brothers 
after  she  came  to  America.  That  she  wrote  to  them  is 
beyond  doubt.  So  great  an  event  as  the  ordination  to 
the  priesthood  of  her  brother  Alphonse  would  not  have 
passed  without  her  congratulations.  Moreover,  in  her 
other  correspondence  she  mentions  hearing  from 
Charles,  receiving  a  letter  from  Paul,  or  she  thanks 
Louis  for  his  little  note.  The  letter  we  now  introduce 
is  to  her  brother  Eugene  and  evidently  belongs  to  her 
later  years. 

It  is  a  long  time,  dear  Eugene,  since  I  have  given 
myself  the  pleasure  of  a  little  chat  with  you.  Of  course 
I  receive  news  of  you,  now  from  one,  now  from  another. 
All  agree  that  you  are  a  good  boy.  I  assure  you  that 
it  gives  me  great  joy  to  know  that  my  dear  brother  has 
not  abandoned  the  way  pointed  out  to  him  from  his 
childhood.  I  pray  for  you  always.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
be  good  towards  one's  own  family,  especially  a  family 
like  ours,  but  it  is  much  more  so  to  be  good  in  the  depths 
of  the  heart,  good  towards  all  men  and  towards  God. 
My  dear  child,  I  rejoice  that  you  are  home,  since  you 
are  in  a  position  to  profit  by  the  consolations  of  the 
family.  Perhaps  you  sometimes  think  of  me  when  you 
cross  the  Joinville  bridge  and  that  magnificent  quay  of 
which  Monsieur  Lorette  sent  me  a  drawing.  Pray  give 
me  some  of  your  rainy  day  trips.  Do  you  remember 
our  old  spiritual  profits  when  you  used  to  come  with 
me  to  my  drawing  lessons  in  warm  weather?  I  can 
offer  a  few  good  "roastings"  here  for  your  intention,  for 
if  the  cold  is  excessive,  the  heat  is  equally  so.  But  all 
this  will  quickly  pass  away,  and  when  we  have  reached 
heaven  we  shall  repose  together.  How  glad  I  shall  be 
to  see  you  all  again!  Poor  Paul  is  more  exposed  than 
you,  but  the  Blessed  Virgin  will  take  care  of  him.  My 
dear  Clementine  is  in  distress;  tell  her  I  embrace  her 
tenderly.  I  feel  that  I  shall  always  have  a  weakness 


268  LETTER  TO  EUGENE 

for  my  three  children; *  when  I  think  of  you  my  eyes  fill 
with  tears  and  I  am  obliged  to  raise  them  to  heaven 
for  comfort.  In  that  happy  land  we  shall  smile  to- 
gether over  our  tears,  and  after  three  or  four  million 
years  we  shall  ask  each  other  if  it  was  worth  while  to 
be  sad  at  being  separated  for  a  few  hours  of  travel. 

i  Irraa  calls  Clementine,  Eugene,  and  Paul  her  "three  children"  because 
she  had  entire  care  of  them  and  their  studies  until  they  were  old  enough  for 
college. 


CHAPTER  IX 

DAYS  OF  TRIAL 

WHEN  God  wishes  to  try  souls,  He  makes 
crosses  of  all  things,  and  often  the  staff 
which  should  support  our  weakness  causes 
us  cruel  anguish  by  breaking  in  our  hands. 

The  years  from  1843  to  1847  were  years  of  intense 
suffering  for  the  Sisters  of  Providence  in  America. 
The  congregation  was  threatened  both  in  its  religious 
and  in  its  temporal  existence.  Often  the  Sisters  did  not 
know  whether  in  another  month  they  would  still  be  at 
Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  or  whether  they  must  be 
exiled  anew  by  leaving  this  second  home  to  seek  an 
asylum  in  other  dioceses  of  the  United  States  where  they 
were  invited  and  desired.  In  these  grave  circumstances, 
Sister  Saint  Francis  displayed  a  firmness  of  character 
which  seldom  showed  itself  in  the  ordinary  course  of  her 
life,  so  easily  did  she  yield  to  the  wishes  of  others.  She 
struggled  for  God,  for  her  dear  superior,  for  her  beau- 
tiful vocation;  and,  notwithstanding  her  love  for  Saint 
Mary-of-the-Woods,  never  would  she  have  purchased 
the  happiness  of  remaining  there  at  the  price  of  an  act 
of  weakness.  Referring  to  this  time,  the  most  intimate 
confidante  of  her  soul  wrote,  "How  describe  her  heroic 
devotedness  to  her  superior  and  to  the  community? 
How  tell  the  moments  of  anguish,  a  thousand  times  re- 
peated, the  fears,  the  agony  of  heart  during  those  times 
of  trial?  God  alone  saw  and  understood  her  love,  her 
devotedness,  and  the  merit  of  those  years."  * 

i  See  "Life  and  Life-Work  of  Mother  Theodore  Guerin." 

269 


270  GRAVE  DIFFICULTIES 

Although  Mother  Theodore's  letter  of  commission 
had  named  her  Superior  General  of  the  Sisters  of  Provi- 
dence in  America,  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere  withheld 
that  title  from  her  on  the  ground  that  as  long  as  Saint 
Mary-of -the- Woods  was  not  independent  of  Ruille  her 
office  was  merely  that  of  a  local  superior  subject  to  re- 
call at  any  time  by  the  authorities  in  France ;  and  he  did 
not  permit  her  to  wear  the  special  pectoral  cross  that  had 
been  given  her.  The  bishop  also  wished  his  community 
to  be  completely  diocesan  with  radical  changes  in  the 
rule.  The  Sisters  held  to  union  with  their  Mother 
House,  for  it  was  explicitly  stated  that  no  separation  was 
to  take  place.  They  held  also  to  the  observance  of  their 
rule,  modified,  certainly,  as  conditions  in  the  New 
World  required.  Difficulties  multiplied.  The  situa- 
tion becoming  acute,  Mother  Theodore  returned  to 
France,  ostensibly  to  solicit  aid  for  her  poor  mission,  but 
more  particularly  to  confer  with  her  superiors  and  the 
Bishop  of  Le  Mans. 

The  following  letters,  not  included  in  the  former  edi- 
tion of  the  "Life  of  Sister  Saint  Francis,"  belong  to  this 
period. 

To  MOTHER  THEODORE  IN  FRANCE 

[Aug.  16,  1843.] 

I  give  you  a  hundred  thousand  guesses  at  what  we  did 
yesterday — feast  of  the  Assumption — from  two  to  three 
o'clock.  The  Sunday  preceding  we  finished  our  retreat. 
Sister  Agnes  and  Sister  Mary  had  the  happiness  to  take 
their  vows;  hence,  we  are  now  six  professed  Sisters. 
Monseigneur  called  us  all  to  your  room  yesterday  and 
then  told  us  that  we  were  brought  together  to  elect  a 
Superior  General,  because  your  term  had  expired.  I 
shall  say  nothing  of  the  general  consternation;  some 
were  pale,  trembling;  others  were  praying.  Twenty 
minutes  later,  of  the  six  votes  cast,  five  billets  had  "Sis- 


GRAVE  DIFFICULTIES  271 

ter  Theodore,"  the  sixth  had  "Ma  Mere";  which  shows 
that  your  election  was  unanimous. 

Later,  when  writing  up  the  annals,  Sister  Saint 
Francis  said:  "If  our  Mother  were  only  a  local  su- 
perior, her  appointment  would  have  to  come  from 
Ruille,  and  the  position  could  be  held  for  any  length  of 
time.  Why,  then,  should  an  election  be  demanded? 
If  she  was  our  legitimate  Superior  General,  why  deny 
her  the  title,  and  the  cross  worn  by  the  Superior?" 

After  Mother  Theodore  returned  to  France,  the 
bishop  took  matters  into  his  own  hands  at  Saint  Mary- 
of -the- Woods.  On  the  question  of  the  superiorship,  his 
ideas  were  now  from  an  exactly  opposite  view-point: — 
Mother  Theodore  had  been  given  irrevocably  to  the  In- 
diana foundation,  Ruille  had  nothing  more  to  say;  her 
three  years'  term  of  office  had  expired ,  there  must  now 
be  an  election,  even  though  she  was  absent  and  knew 
nothing  of  the  proceeding. 

Other  events  of  still  graver  import  taking  place, 
Mother  Mary  despatched  a  note  to  Mother  Theodore, 
who  was  then  at  Paris,  saying:  "Fly  home,  my  Theo- 
dore, to  mend  the  broken  platters ;  all  the  gold  in  France 
could  not  repay  you  for  the  harm  your  community  may 
suffer  from  your  absence." 

The  following  letter  is  addressed  to  Mother  Theodore, 
then  ill  in  New  Orleans. 

[Feb.,  1844.] 

Sacred  Hearts  of  Jesus  and  Mary! 

My  good  and  beloved  Mother,  what  shall  I  say? 
Nothing,  except  that  the  time  has  come  when  we  shall 
be  happy  if  we  love  to  suffer.  I  shall  not  enter  into 
details.  I  dare  not  write  anything,  I  would  almost  say 
I  dare  not  even  think  anything  now,  for  I  do  not  know 
whether  my  views  are  false  or  not.  I  think  that  I  may 


272  GRAVE  DIFFICULTIES 

say  this  much,  however:  Do  not  come  to  any  conclu- 
sion before  you  have  seen  us.  There  are  many  things 
to  be  judged  of  only  after  hearing  them.  How  I  would 
wish  to  add  to  my  pains  those  that  you  have  to  bear! 
I  cannot  resign  myself  to  your  multitude  of  contradic- 
tions ;  for  my  own  I  have  more  courage.  It  is  unneces- 
sary, I  know,  for  me  to  repeat  my  ideas  about  Ruille; 
they  are  just  as  they  were  when  you  left  us;  my  opinion 
has  not  changed  in  your  absence.  I  console  myself  that 
you  have  a  support  in  the  decisions  that  you  have  re- 
ceived. My  poor  Mother,  how  I  pray  for  you !  I  dare 
not  wish  for  anything  for  fear  of  following  my  own 
lights.  I  leave  to  God  the  fate  of  our  beloved  Congre- 
gation. 

And  again  a  few  weeks  later : 

[March,  1844.] 

Under  the  protection  of  the  Blessed  Virgin. 
My  Mother,  my  poor  Mother,  you  will  be  at  Vin- 
cennes  when  you  receive  these  few  lines.  I  place  your 
hand  on  my  heart  to  prevent  its  running  away  to  you. 
How  much  good  your  letter  from  Ruille  did  me!  I 
was  so  anxious  about  your  sufferings.  But  God  has 
shown  you  the  value  of  sufferings;  you  found  them  in 
France;  they  await  you  in  America;  and  I  myself  may 
be,  by  my  imprudence,  my  indiscreet  zeal,  the  cause  of 
many  of  your  trials.  I  shall  explain  my  conduct  later. 
I  have  a  notebook  of  my  proceedings,  that  I  have  kept 
to  show  you.  I  have  copies  of  all  the  letters  I  have 
written  during  your  absence,  in  order  that  you  may  pass 
judgment  on  them.  My  dear  Mother,  God  is  treating 
me  as  His  true  daughter.  Humanly  speaking,  I  am 
overwhelmed;  yet  I  am  happy  and  courageous.  If  I 
am  at  all  wanting  in  courage,  it  is  due  to  the  thought 
that  my  conduct  may  have  augmented  your  crosses.  O 
Mother,  if  such  be  the  case,  pardon  me. 

I  have  tried  to  rise  at  five  o'clock  and  my  health  does 
not  suffer  from  it.  God  has  blessed  my  efforts.  One 
more  hour  to  love  this  good  Jesus,  to  suffer  for  Him ! 


GRAVE  DIFFICULTIES  273 

Exteriorly  it  seems  to  me  our  community  is  very  regu- 
lar, but  God  alone  knows  whether  it  is  or  not.  If  He 
be  satisfied  with  us,  we,  too,  shall  be  content,  shall  we 
not,  dear  Mother?  All  for  Him;  nothing  for  any  one 
else. 

Good-by  for  a  little  while,  dearest  Mother.  All  your 
daughters  love  you  and  await  your  coming;  but,  I  repeat 
it,  no  one  is  more  devoted  than  your  daughter  Sister 
Saint  Francis  Xavier  (if  it  be  not  poor  Sister  Olym- 
piade;  as  to  her,  I  dare  not  place  myself  above  but  be- 
side her) . 

Sister  Saint  Francis  had  previously  written: 

My  poor  Mother,  you  have  suffered  so  much  for  us 
that  I  should  be  happy  to  give  you  a  minute  for  affec- 
tion. But  your  excellent  letter  of  October  6  reveals  to 
me  your  crucified  heart  and  your  joy  that  it  is  so. 

FROM  MOTHER  MARY,  THE  SUPERIOR  GENERAL 
IN  FRANCE 

Ruille-sur-Loir,  July  8,  1847. 

Dear  and  ever-beloved  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier, 

We  have  shared  the  profound  sorrow  which  the  pre- 
mature death  of  our  very  dear  Sister  Liguori  has  caused 
you.  Her  loss  is  the  more  to  be  deplored  as  you  relied 
on  her  to  be  your  mariner's  compass,  after  your  present 
guide  would  be  wrecked  by  the  waves  and  tempest  of  all 
kinds  of  tribulations. 

This  double  misfortune  has  just  happened  to  you,  as 
is  stated  in  the  letter  you  wrote  to  Monseigneur  Bouvier, 
which  he  has  communicated  to  us,  and  in  which  you 
announce  to  him,  not  only  the  deposition  of  Mother 
Theodore,  and  her  unmerited  expulsion  from  the  Society 
which  she  has  founded — with  the  help  of  the  good  God 
—but  even  her  being  sent  away  from  the  Diocese  of 
Vincennes. 

All  this  is  very  hard  to  digest  and  very  difficult  to 


274  GRAVE  DIFFICULTIES 

conceive.  But,  in  brief,  God  has  permitted  it  to  try 
your  faith  and  your  confidence  in  His  divine  Provi- 
dence. This  painful  trial  is  the  last  by  which  He  wishes 
you  to  show  your  love  and  obedience.  He  tries  you  as 
He  did  Abraham.  He  will  console  you,  as  He  did  that 
holy  Patriarch  in  restoring  to  him  his  son,  by  the  min- 
istry of  an  angel.  He  will  restore  to  you  your  Mother 
also  (if  she  is  not  already  given  back  to  you)  by  the 
means  of  a  saint,  named  by  our  Holy  Father  to  replace 
your  bishop.  Thus  you  see  that,  at  the  moment  you 
believed  all  lost,  God  in  His  divine  decrees  was  occupied 
in  your  deliverance.  That  God  of  all  goodness  and 
mercy  witnessed  your  sorrows  and  heard  your  prayers ; 
He  now  sends  you  one  of  His  angels  to  convey  to  you  a 
treaty  of  peace,  because  He  is  pleased  with  your  sacri- 
fices and  your  patience.  But  do  not  glory  in  this,  my 
dear  daughter;  on  the  contrary,  be  more  humble  and 
more  obedient;  for  if  the  wind  of  pride  shatters  the 
cedars  and  the  strong  oak  trees  in  your  forests  of  In- 
diana, what  should  you  not  fear,  you,  weak  reeds !  Re- 
main, then,  in  humility,  and  when  your  new  prelate 
shall  think  fit  to  ask  of  you  an  account  of  the  line  of 
conduct  you  had  with  his  predecessor,  explain  your- 
selves with  great  simplicity  and  sincerity,  without  show- 
ing either  resentment  or  bitterness  of  heart  against  the 
one  who  put  on  you  such  heavy  crosses — by  Divine  per- 
mission, because  men  are  but  instruments  and  secondary 
causes  in  all  that  happens  to  us,  good  or  bad.  Conse- 
quently, give  to  your  new  bishop  unequivocal  proofs 
that  you  are  the  disciples  of  a  crucified  God,  and  that, 
following  His  example,  you  know  how  to  forgive  from 
your  heart  your  enemies,  your  persecutors,  and  even 
your  executioners,  if  necessary.  Monseigneur,  our 
bishop,  has  written  to  us  from  Paris,  where  he  is  now, 
that  he  has  heard  from  a  good  source  that  the  resigna- 
tion of  Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere  has  been  accepted  by 
our  Holy  Father;  that  a  most  worthy  new  bishop  has 
been  nominated  for  the  Bishopric  of  Vincennes;  and 
that  the  person  commissioned  to  deliver  the  Papal  Bulls 
embarked  at  Havre,  June  fifteenth.  His  Lordship  in 


GRAVE  DIFFICULTIES  275 

his  letter  asks  me  to  write  to  you  immediately  and  en- 
gage you  to  persevere  in  your  patience,  which  means  to 
say  that  he  desires  that  you  remain  at  your  post,  not- 
withstanding the  anathema  hurled  at  you  by  Bishop  de 
la  Hailandiere,  which,  after  all,  cannot  last  long.  By 
doing  so,  you  will  add  to  your  crown,  bearing  on  your 
head,  and  not  in  your  soul,  the  weight  of  an  unjust  ex- 
communication. 

Let  Mother  Theodore,  then,  remain  in  Indiana,  and 
if  by  some  necessity  she  is  obliged  to  quit  your  house 
for  some  days,  let  her  not  go  far  from  her  little  flock. 
She  will  govern  it  later  with  peace  and  in  security,  for 
I  think  the  new  bishop  will  do  her  justice. 

I  do  not  write  to  Mother  Theodore  to-day.  I  will 
not  do  so  until  I  hear  something  positive  about  your 
situation,  which  cannot  remain  long  without  being  de- 
cided one  way  or  another.  The  event  of  the  change  of 
bishop  at  Vincennes,  together  with  the  crosses  you  have 
had  in  that  country,  make  me  confident  that  God  will 
bless  your  mission.  So,  now,  be  full  of  courage, 
patience,  and  hope,  since  to  you  also  it  has  been  given 
to  know  how  much  we  must  suffer  for  the  glory  of  the 
Holy  Name  of  Jesus  our  Savior.  We  will  await  a  let- 
ter from  you  with  impatience,  in  order  to  know  the  issue 
of  your  momentous  affairs. 

During  this  period,  painful  in  the  extreme  for  the 
community,  the  Sisters  had  the  consolation  of  seeing 
Catholicity  spreading  daily  throughout  the  United 
States.  Although  individual  acts  of  fanaticism  and 
persecution  were  not  uncommon,  the  government 
granted  to  Catholics  a  liberty  too  often  refused  them  in 
some  European  countries  nominally  subject  to  the  Holy 
See.  The  bishops  and  archbishops  profited  by  this 
tolerance  to  assemble  in  synods  or  national  councils  for 
the  purpose  of  treating  of  the  vital  interests  of  religion. 

At  the  Sixth  Council  of  Baltimore,  1846,  Bishop  de  la 
Hailandiere  laid  before  the  bishops  his  desire  to  leave 


276  NEW  BISHOP  OF  VINCENNES 

the  diocese  of  Vincennes  and  return  to  France,  for  the 
rest  which  both  his  physical  and  mental  condition  re- 
quired. His  resignation  was  accepted  at  Rome ;  and  on 
the  25th  of  May,  1847,  news  reached  Vincennes  that 
Monseigneur  Bazin  had  been  named  his  successor.  The 
new  bishop,  a  native  of  Lyons,  France,  had  for  the  past 
thirty-five  years  lived  at  Mobile  with  Bishop  Portier, 
who  consented  very  reluctantly  to  be  separated  from  his 
vicar-general.  "I  know  nothing  particular  in  regard  to 
him,"  Irma  wrote,  "but,  since  God  has  chosen  him,  we 
must  hope  he  will  do  much  good  for  our  poor  Indiana." 
After  Bishop  Bazin's  arrival  at  Vincennes,  her  letter 
says:  "At  last  God  has  sent  us  a  new  bishop.  Mon- 
seigneur Bazin  arrived  on  the  14th,  and  the  day  after  to- 
morrow he  will  be  consecrated.  We  saw  him  for  a  few 
hours.  He  received  us  very  kindly  and  appeared 
grateful  for  our  little  visit,  as  we  were  the  first  to  call 
on  him.  The  next  day  he  came  alone  to  our  house,  asked 
for  the  pupils,  and  after  speaking  kindly  to  them  and 
bestowing  his  blessing,  gave  them  a  holiday.  He  seems 
an  excellent  person,  and  is  frank,  simple,  and  lively,  with 
manners  much  like  those  of  the  beloved  Bishop  Brute. 
His  white  hair  makes  me  think  of  Pepa's  love  for  old 
priests.  Oh !  this  one  would  indeed  please  not  only  her 
but  all  of  you." 

The  new  bishop  received  the  episcopal  consecration 
on  the  24th  of  October,  1847,  from  the  hands  of  Bishop 
Portier,  assisted  by  Bishop  Purcell  of  Cincinnati  and 
Bishop  de  la  Hailandiere.  The  words  he  addressed  to 
his  new  diocesans  were  often  interrupted  by  tears.  He 
said  it  was  for  them  that  he  had  left  his  dear  diocese  of 
Mobile,  and  his  beloved  bishop  whom  he  cherished  as  a 
father.  "Yes,  my  dear  children,"  he  continued,  "if  you 
are  sick  or  afflicted,  come  for  me  night  or  day  and  have 


BISHOP  BAZIN  AT  ST.  MARY'S  277 

no  fear  that  you  will  annoy  me.  Consider  me  now  as 
belonging  entirely  to  you,  since  I  was  consecrated  this 
morning  for  your  happiness.  My  hair  is  white,  but  I 
am  still  vigorous  and  strong,  and  I  shall  love  you  as  I 
loved  my  children  of  Mobile."  These  simple  words 
deeply  touched  the  hearts  of  the  people  of  Vincennes, 
and  from  this  first  day  they  gave  their  bishop  their 
loyalty  and  sincere  affection. 

Monseigneur  de  la  Hailandiere  had  intended  to  place 
Father  Corbe,  the  reverend  superior  of  Saint  Mary-of- 
the- Woods,  at  the  head  of  the  seminary  at  Vincennes; 
but  Father  Corbe  had  declined  the  dignity,  and  Bishop 
Bazin,  knowing  how  much  it  would  afflict  the  community 
to  take  away  its  good  superior,  selected  Father  de  Saint 
Palais,  the  pastor  at  Madison.  On  the  day  following 
the  consecration  of  the  new  bishop,  Father  de  Saint 
Palais  arrived  at  the  episcopal  residence  intending  also 
to  decline  the  honor  proffered  him.  On  entering  Bishop 
Bazin's  room  he  found  him  on  his  knees,  bathed  in  tears, 
offering  to  God  the  sacrifice  he  had  just  made  in  parting 
forever  from  Bishop  Portier.  As  soon  as  Monseigneur 
Bazin  saw  Father  de  Saint  Palais,  he  threw  himself  into 
his  arms,  begging  him  to  be  his  friend,  and  to  aid  him 
in  carrying  the  heavy  cross  the  Lord  had  imposed  on 
him.  "I  have  just  left  my  father,  my  best  friend,"  the 
bishop  said;  "will  you  not  remain  with  me?"  Father 
de  Saint  Palais  could  not  resist  such  pleading,  and  his 
intended  refusal  was  changed  into  a  promise  to  remain 
at  Vincennes. 

In  January,  1848,  Bishop  Bazin  visited  Saint  Mary- 
of-the-Woods. 

He  was  among  us  [writes  Sister  Saint  Francis]  as  a 
father  among  his  children.  He  gave  us  several  con- 
ferences, visited  our  pupils,  and  showed  the  greatest 


278  ILLNESS  OF  BISHOP  BAZIN 

concern  for  the  health  of  our  Mother,  who  was  ill  at  the 
time.  He  revised  with  her  those  points  of  our  Consti- 
tutions and  Rules  which  could  be  observed  in  America 
only  with  difficulty.  He  was  deeply  grieved  to  see  the 
distance  that  separates  our  houses,  and  how  far  we  are 
from  the  church.  On  his  return  to  Vincennes  he  wrote 
to  all  the  Sisters  on  the  missions.  The  letters  which  he 
addressed  to  Mobile,  to  the  Propagation  of  the  Faith, 
and  to  Rome  were  filled  with  the  joy  that  his  visit 
to  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods  had  afforded  him.  He 
promised  to  return  in  August  to  give  our  retreat,  and 
to  see  the  reunion  of  all  his  beloved  daughters,  in  whom 
he  placed  his  dearest  hopes. 

Bishop  Bazin,  assisted  by  Father  de  Saint  Palais  and 
Father  Chasse,  preached  the  Lent  of  1848  at  Vincennes. 
Many  sinners,  touched  by  the  goodness  of  their  bishop, 
came  to  him,  and,  by  a  good  confession,  prepared  them- 
selves for  their  Paschal  Communion.  In  the  midst  of 
these  labors  he  was  attacked  by  a  cold,  which  soon  de- 
veloped into  inflammation  of  the  lungs.  On  Saturday, 
the  eve  of  Palm  Sunday,  notwithstanding  his  sufferings, 
he  heard  confessions  most  of  the  day ;  but  the  following 
morning  he  was  obliged  to  return  to  bed,  and  his  illness 
soon  became  alarming.  Mother  Theodore,  who  was 
then  in  Vincennes,  realized  more  than  Monseigneur 
Bazin  the  danger  of  his  condition;  she  hastened  to  ex- 
press her  anxiety  to  her  daughters  at  Saint  Mary-of-the- 
Woods.  "Our  bishop  is  hourly  growing  worse,  [she 
said] ;  I  have  just  spent  a  few  minutes  with  him.  He 
spoke  of  you  all;  he  is  deeply  interested  in  our  com- 
munity. He  remarked  that  the  physician  still  hopes  to 
save  him ;  but  I  have  no  more  hope.  He  prays  unceas- 
ingly, and  when  I  see  how  pious  and  edifying  he  is,  I 
cannot  but  think  our  good  bishop  ripe  for  heaven." 

Yes,  God  willed  to  call  to  Himself  this  holy  prelate, 
whom  the  diocese  of  Vincennes  had  time  to  know  and  to 


DEATH  OF  BISHOP  BAZIN  279 

love,  only  to  regret  the  more.  Till  the  last  moment  of 
his  life,  he  continued  to  manifest  his  interest  in  the 
community  of  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  With  a 
trembling  hand  he  signed  the  deed  which  gave  the  Sisters 
possession  of  the  property  promised  them  by  Bishop  de 
la  Hailandiere.  Five  minutes  before  he  expired,  he 
called  for  Mother  Theodore  and,  raising  his  hand  al- 
ready cold  with  death,  gave  her  his  last  blessing. 

The  holy  bishop  had  begun  to  hear  the  confessions  of 
men  who  for  twenty  or  thirty  years  and  more  had  re- 
mained away  from  the  sacraments,  and  he  regretted 
leaving  incomplete  the  work  of  their  conversion. 

"Ah!  my  poor  sinners,"  said  he;  "if  I  could  only  live 
long  enough  to  hear  their  confessions  and  to  reconcile 
them  with  God."  Scarcely  had  he  uttered  the  words 
than  he  reproached  himself  for  this  fervent  desire,  and 
when  two  of  the  priests  entered  his  room  a  short  time 
after,  he  said:  "My  brothers,  kneel  down  and  ask  God 
to  pardon  the  fault  I  have  just  committed.  I  have 
yielded  to  a  temptation;  I  have  desired  to  live."  He 
was  consumed  by  a  burning  fever,  but  he  refused  a 
proffered  drink  with  the  words,  "No;  since  my  tongue 
has  murmured  against  the  orders  of  Providence,  it  is 
just  that  it  should  be  punished."  He  endured  this 
privation  till  the  end  of  his  life,  thus  expiating  what  he 
considered  a  want  of  submission  to  the  will  of  God. 

On  Easter  Sunday,  1848,  God  called  to  Himself  this 
holy  bishop,  who  within  a  few  months  had  effected  im- 
mense good  in  the  diocese  of  Vincennes.  The  people 
mourned  for  him  as  if  they  had  known  him  many  long 
years,  and  Protestants  as  well  as  Catholics  assisted  at  the 
funeral,  which  was  presided  over  by  Archbishop  Kenrick 
of  St.  Louis,  and  Bishop  Purcell  of  Cincinnati. 

Bishop  Bazin,  who  had  appointed  Father  de  Saint 


280  DEATH  OF  BISHOP  BAZIN 

Palais  superior  of  the  seminary,  named  him  also  ad- 
ministrator of  the  diocese,  and  several  of  the  priests 
profited  by  the  presence  of  the  Archbishop  of  St.  Louis 
to  express  the  desire  that  the  choice  of  the  dying  prelate 
might  be  confirmed  at  Rome.  Archbishop  Kenrick  was 
pleased  with  their  request,  and  promised  to  use  his  influ- 
ence with  the  Holy  See.  His  Holiness  Pius  IX 
yielded  to  their  entreaty  and  named  Father  de  Saint 
Palais  for  the  see  of  Vincennes.  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais 
was  consecrated  on  the  14th  of  January,  1849,  and  the 
community  of  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods  had  the  con- 
solation of  finding  in  the  new  bishop  a  friend  and  father. 

After  Bishop  Bazin's  death,  Sister  Saint  Francis 
wrote  to  her  mother : 

June  12,  1848. 

God  has  again  afflicted  us  profoundly  in  calling  to 
Himself  our  good,  holy  and  kind  Bishop  Bazin.  He 
gave  him  to  us,  He  has  taken  him  away.  Blessed  be 
His  Holy  Name!  I  acknowledge  that  I  felt  this  blow 
keenly.  I  wept  over  his  death  with  bitter  tears,  for  I 
mourned  for  our  community,  the  diocese,  and  all  the 
Catholics  of  Indiana,  who,  like  ourselves,  have  lost  a 
father.  I  do  not  remember  to  have  known  so  charitable 
and  affectionate  a  heart.  When  I  told  him  of  our 
troubles,  he  wept  like  a  child;  he  loved  us  as  he  knew 
how  to  love.  On  the  day  of  his  death  Vincennes  was  a 
city  of  mourning.  Protestants  and  Catholics  alike  were 
in  tears,  and  the  marks  of  veneration  accompanying  his 
funeral  were  so  universal  as  to  make  it  undoubted  that 
all  thought  him  to  be  in  heaven. 


CHAPTER  X 

IRMA'S  ILLNESS — HER  CURE  THROUGH  OUR  LADY 
OF  LA  SALETTE 

SHORTLY  after  the  death  of  Bishop  Bazin,  Sister 
Saint  Francis  was  carried  to  the  gates  of  death  by 
a  serious  illness.     When  sufficiently  convalescent 
she  gave  the  details  of  her  malady  and  of  her  happy  re- 
covery. 

Our  Lord  appeared  first  to  His  Blessed  Mother  after 
His  Resurrection  and,  following  His  example,  I  wish 
my  cherished  mother  to  be  the  first  to  whom  I  say, 
" Alleluia  1"  Oh!  this  "Alleluia"  will  find  an  echo  in 
more  than  one  heart,  for  I  know  the  piety  and  gratitude 
of  all  my  family,  especially  when  the  Blessed  Virgin  is 
the  instrument  chosen  by  God  for  the  bestowal  of  His 
gifts.  It  is  to  this  kind  and  most  holy  Virgin  that  you 
owe  to-day  the  consolation  of  again  seeing  your  daugh- 
ter's writing. 

After  speaking  of  the  beginning  of  her  illness  (in- 
flammation of  the  lungs) ,  she  continued: 

Friday  night  was  terrible ;  my  oppression  increased 
and  I  became  delirious  from  fever.  When  it  dimin- 
ished somewhat  I  realized  my  condition.  I  could 
neither  cough  nor  expectorate,  and  I  saw  plainly  that 
within  a  few  hours  my  strength  would  be  exhausted.  I 
called  to  my  aid  my  faithful  friends,  Jesus  and  Mary, 
and  my  good  father  Saint  Joseph.  Ah!  how  sweet  it 
is  to  belong  to  them,  and  how  small  appears  everything 
that  we  may  have  done  for  them.  Hope  was  my  con- 
fidence— hope  alone;  for  God  has  a  father's  love  for 
those  who  hope  in  Him. 

281 


282  IRMA'S  MIRACULOUS  CURE 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  Mother  Theodore 
came  into  my  room,  and  I  suffered  to  know  that  she 
found  me  so  ill.  She  took  my  hand  silently,  for  we 
were  afraid  to  express  our  thoughts.  At  five  Father 
Corbe  said  Mass  for  me  in  honor  of  the  Blessed  Virgin ; 
it  was  Saturday,  and  all  the  Sisters  received  Holy  Com- 
munion. From  my  bed,  so  near  the  chapel,  I  followed 
the  different  parts  of  the  Mass,  telling  myself  that  my 
name  was  in  the  memento  of  the  living  for  the  last  time, 
unless  the  Blessed  Virgin  would  work  a  miracle  to  cure 
me.  I  did  not  desire  it ;  God  gave  me  grace  to  abandon 
myself  entirely  to  Him. 

Ah!  my  beloved  sisters,  how  the  tears  of  parting  and 
the  pain  of  exile  are  rewarded  at  the  moment  of  death! 
My  God !  how  good  and  generous  You  are !  How  is  it 
possible  that  we  hesitate  so  long  to  give  ourselves  to 
You? 

When  Mother  Theodore  returned,  I  was  still  more 
oppressed.  She  said  that  during  Mass  she  had  re- 
membered a  little  bottle  of  water  of  La  Salette,  received 
a  few  weeks  before  from  Monsieur  Dupont.  At  those 
words  I  assured  Mother  Theodore  that  I  should  be 
cured,  and  I  asked  her  what  kind  of  cure  she  wished. 
She  replied,  "A  gradual  one."  For  the  honor  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  I  should  have  preferred  to  be  cured  sud- 
denly; and,  if  Mother  had  desired  it,  I  am  certain  our 
Immaculate  Queen  would  have  granted  it.  But  as  it 
was  for  our  dear  community,  and  principally  for  my 
good  superior,  that  I  rejoiced  to  live,  I  wished  to  follow 
her  will. 

Scarcely  had  I  swallowed  the  pure  and  miraculous 
water  when  a  happy  change  took  place  within  me.  I 
asked  for  something  to  eat  and  called  for  the  Sisters, 
who  came  one  after  another  to  embrace  me.  Tears  of 
joy  replaced  the  tears  of  sorrow  they  were  still  shedding. 
It  required  faith,  however,  to  believe  that  I  was  to  be 
cured,  for,  to  this  moment  of  vigor,  there  succeeded  so 
great  a  weakness  that  I  was  unable  to  move,  to  speak, 
or  to  see.  The  noise  of  a  fly  buzzing  near  made  me 
tremble.  (This  is  literally  true.)  The  afternoon  was 


IRMA'S  MIRACULOUS  CURE  283 

terrible  for  my  dear  Mother  Theodore.  Every  instant 
she  thought  me  about  to  expire.  In  the  evening  towards 
nine  o'clock,  she  asked  Father  Corbe  to  come  to  see  me ; 
but  she  dared  not  inquire  what  he  thought  of  my  con- 
dition, lest  she  should  be  confirmed  in  her  fears.  We 
all  three  kept  silence,,  though  I  was  not  aware  of 
Mother's  cruel  anguish,  for  I  had  not  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt  that  I  should  be  cured.  Finding  myself  weaker, 
I  asked  for  another  spoonful  of  the  dear  water  of  La 
Salette,  and  I  told  my  superiors  that,  even  should  they 
see  me  dead,  they  should  not  be  uneasy,  but  only  sprinkle 
the  miraculous  water  on  me  and  I  would  resuscitate. 
In  spite  of  my  protestations,  when  the  water  was  in  the 
spoon,  Mother  Theodore  knelt  down  and  prayed  to  the 
Blessed  Virgin  with  all  her  heart.  I  saw  Father  Corbe 
take  off  his  biretta  and  do  the  same.  As  soon  as  I  had 
taken  the  miraculous  water  I  felt  reanimated,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  I  was  strong  enough  to  leave  my  bed  and 
take  five  or  six  steps,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  Sister; 
but  this  precaution  was  for  form's  sake.  Indeed  I  was 
stronger  than  I  am  even  to-day. 

I  desired  ardently  to  receive  Holy  Communion  the 
next  day,  but  knowing  that  Mother  Theodore  would  not 
permit  me  to  fast  until  morning,  I  spoke  of  it  to  my 
Mother,  Our  Lady  of  La  Salette,  to  whom  nothing  is 
difficult.  At  midnight  the  Sister  who  was  with  me, 
believing  me  dead,  shook  and  awakened  me  from  my 
first  sleep.  Mary  had  exceeded  my  hopes.  Immedi- 
ately I  sent  to  ask  Mother's  permission  not  to  drink 
anything;  she  granted  it,  but  on  several  conditions 
which  the  Blessed  Virgin  admirably  fulfilled.  Towards 
five  o'clock  Father  Corbe,  who  had  spent  part  of  the 
night  in  prayer,  was  happy  to  learn  what  Mary  had 
done  for  me.  He  hastened  to  bring  me  Holy  Com- 
munion. All  the  Sisters,  with  lighted  tapers  in  their 
hands,  came  into  the  room,  weeping  for  joy.  The  little 
table  on  which  I  am  writing  was  adorned  with  blue  and 
white  flowers,  and  the  statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  was 
surrounded  by  pretty  candlesticks.  There  Jesus  re- 
posed for  some  minutes  before  entering  my  heart.  This 


284  IRMA'S  MIRACULOUS  CURE 

was  one  of  the  sweetest  moments  of  my  life,  and  only 
the  opportunity  I  had  lost  of  going  to  heaven  could 
make  me  regret,  even  ever  so  little,  being  still  on  earth. 

On  Saint  Francis  Xavier's  day  I  delegated  Mother 
Theodore  to  represent  me  among  the  novices,  and  she 
did  things  in  grand  style.  First  of  all  they  went  to  sing 
hymns  to  "Our  Lady  of  the  Washhouse."  Under  this 
title  our  dear  Sister-laundresses  find  much  consolation 
in  honoring  a  little  statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  sent  to 
us  by  Monsieur  Dupont.  In  her  gratitude  Mother 
Theodore  joined  her  voice,  which  resembles  mine,  to  the 
fresh  voices  of  her  daughters.  Then  she  had  a  fine  col- 
lation served,  and  I  shall  whisper  to  you,  they  even 
drank  a  little  wine, — something  which  does  not  happen 
every  day. 

On  the  feast  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  I  was 
strong  enough  to  receive  Holy  Communion  in  our 
chapel ;  and  this  long  letter  proves  to  you  that  I  am  now 
almost  as  well  as  before  my  illness.  Pray  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin  that  I  may  faithfully  fulfill  that  for  which  she 
has  prolonged  my  life. 

Mother  Theodore  at  the  same  time  wrote  to  Irma's 
family : 

I  had  to  leave  to  our  dear  daughter  the  pleasure  of 
writing  to  you  what  God  has  just  done  for  us,  through 
the  medium  of  her  [the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary]  by  whom 
all  those  blessings  have  come  to  us  with  which  it  has 
pleased  Him  to  favor  our  Congregation  of  the  Woods. 
You  will  be  greatly  consoled  in  reading  the  details  of  the 
week,  during  which  we  experienced  both  profound  sor- 
row and  ineffable  consolation.  How  happy  you  will 
all  be  to  read  and  re-read  those  lines  traced  by  a  cher- 
ished hand  which,  a  few  days  ago,  was  almost  cold  with 
the  chill  of  death.  How  you  will  thank  our  Protectress, 
our  Blessed  Mother!  In  all  the  establishments  where 
we  have  Sisters,  the  Holy  Sacrifice  has  already  been 
offered  in  thanksgiving  for  the  favor  that  we  have  just 


IRMA'S  MIRACULOUS  CURE  285 

obtained.  Oh!  but  we  promised  to  love  and  serve  God 
with  more  fervor  and  fidelity  than  ever.  He  is  so  good. 
It  is  impossible  for  me  to  express  to  you,  my  dear  friends, 
what  has  passed  in  our  hearts,  especially  what  has  passed 
in  mine.  The  heart  and  soul  have  sorrows,  anguish,  and 
enjoyments  that  the  pen  cannot  describe,  that  the 
tongue  cannot  express.  Your  hearts, — yes,  yours,  will 
understand  this.  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  is  neces- 
sary for  my  existence.  She  is  my  oldest  daughter,  the 
friend  of  my  soul,  in  which  she  reads  as  I  do  in  hers. 
I  have  need  of  her  advice,  of  her  example,  I  will  even 
say,  of  her  little  scoldings.  I  saw  myself,  by  her  death 
left,  as  it  were,  alone  in  the  world,  in  the  midst  of  a 
Community  that  I  love,  and  by  which  I  am  tenderly 
loved ;  all  this  is  true,  and  is  not  the  half  of  what  I  should 
like  to  say.  Nevertheless,  it  was  not  for  myself  that  I 
asked  her  of  God,  and  of  His  tender  Mother  who  is  also 
ours,  with  so  much  earnestness;  I  asked  her  for  my 
Sisters,  for  our  dear  novices,  for  our  young  Congrega- 
tion which  is  called  to  do  so  much  good  in  this  country  if 
God  preserves  it  in  His  spirit.  Who  better  than  this 
dear  Sister  can  inspire  love  for  virtue  by  her  words  and 
example?  The  good  God  knew  it  well;  it  was  to  the  in- 
terests of  His  glory  to  preserve  for  us  this  treasure. 
Her  death  would  have  been  a  great  calamity  for  our 
mission,  an  irreparable  loss.  I  was  so  much  the  more 
disconsolate,  as  I  felt  I  had  drawn  this  misfortune  upon 
us  by  my  infidelities.  I  promised  to  become  better; 
ask  for  me  of  Our  Lord  that  I  may  be  faithful  to  my 
promises,  in  order  that  He  may  preserve  a  long  time 
this  precious  companion,  and  that  He  may  be  glorified 
in  our  House  of  the  Forest. 

In  conclusion,  allow  me  to  wish  you  all  a  good  and 
holy  year ;  Heaven  will  not  shower  down  upon  you  more 
abundant  blessings  than  I  wish  for  you.  I  beg  of  you 
to  ask  for  us,  that  during  the  course  of  the  year  which 
we  are  about  to  begin,  God  may  send  us  subjects  chosen 
by  Himself,  and  hence  fit  for  His  work,  which  is  ripe 
and  only  needs  laborers.  The  Bishop  of  New  Orleans 


286  IRMA'S  MIRACULOUS  CURE 

has  just  written  to  offer  us  two  cities  in  his  diocese, 
wherein  to  form  establishments,  but  we  have  not  sub- 
jects enough  even  for  Indiana. 

Later  on  Mother  Theodore  deeply  regretted  not 
having  permitted  Irma  to  ask  the  Blessed  Virgin  for  an 
instantaneous  cure.  "When  she  proposed  it,"  said 
Mother,  "I  was  so  impressed  by  the  thought  that  God 
was  going  to  hear  her  prayer,  and  that  in  a  moment,  be- 
fore my  very  eyes,  she  would,  if  I  may  say  so,  pass  from 
death  to  life,  that  I  had  not  the  courage  to  allow  her." 


CHAPTER  XI 

LITTLE  DETAILS   FROM   SAINT   MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 

THE  letters  which  Sister   Saint  Francis  called 
Little  Details  were  those  which  contained  noth- 
ing special  for  the  family,  and  were  intended  to 
be  read  by  friends  of  her  sisters.     From  the  abundance 
of  these  entertaining  notes,  we  select  those  of  more 
general  interest. 

A  few  days  ago  [Irma  says]  we  had  the  consolation 
of  learning  that  one  of  our  Protestant  pupils  opened 
heaven's  door  for  two  little  dying  children.  This  is  not 
the  only  instance;  nearly  every  month  some  of  our 
former  pupils  do  the  same.  They  take  great  pride  in 
writing  us  the  details  of  such  matters.  One  of  them,  a 
Catholic,  has,  by  the  grace  of  God,  just  effected  the  con- 
version of  a  very  eminent  physician.  He  acknowledges 
that  were  it  not  for  Miss  Mary  he  would  never  have  been 
baptized.  He  is  very  rich  and  intends  to  have  a  church 
built  in  the  city  where  he  resides.  He  has  just  sent  us 
his  daughter  to  be  prepared  for  holy  baptism,  and  the 
young  lady  hopes  that  her  mother  will  soon  have  the 
same  happiness.  How  rightly  Saint  Paul  could  fear 
that  after  having  preached  to  others,  he  himself  might 
become  a  castaway.  Poor  Mary,  who  was  instrumental 
in  these  conversions,  re&witly  had  the  weakness  to  marry 
an  obstinate  Jew. 

Eliza,  one  of  our  pupils,  some  years  after  leaving 
school  fell  ill  of  consumption.  She  thought  at  once  of 
being  baptized,  and  sought  permission  to  return  to 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods,  but  her  parents  opposed  it. 
From  the  day  she  had  asked  to  become  a  Catholic,  they 

287 


288         LITTLE  DETAILS  FROM  ST.  MARY'S 

never  left  her  alone.  Her  strength  was  daily  diminish- 
ing, and  her  only  consolation  was  a  little  Catholic  book 
we  had  given  her,  and  a  medal  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
which  she  always  wore.  Eliza  made  a  last  attempt  to 
see  a  priest,  but  without  success.  Her  parents  posi- 
tively refused  to  receive  a  priest  and  called  in  a  minister. 
The  poor  girl  declared  she  would  rather  die  than  receive 
baptism  from  a  heretic,  and  she  sent  away  the  minister, 
who  left  in  great  indignation.  She  then  fell  into  a  pro- 
found melancholy  and  died  shortly  after.  Her  parents 
are  now  inconsolable  for  their  cruelty  in  refusing  the 
last  request  of  their  dying  daughter.  But,  O  mys- 
terious and  sweet  ways  of  Providence!  I  have  just 
learned  that  a  day  or  two  before  her  death  Eliza  received 
private  baptism.1  Rejoice  with  me,  for  indeed  I  had 
mourned  over  this  child.  The  good  news  is  not  gen- 
erally known. 

We  hope  that  on  All  Saints'  day  the  Church  militant 
will  celebrate  with  the  Church  triumphant  a  victory  over 
the  demon.  A  young  American  woman,  wife  of  one  of 
our  workmen,  will  probably  make  her  First  Communion. 
She  has  already  gone  to  confession  four  or  five  times, 
and  has  asked  us  for  a  new  dress  for  the  occasion. 

One  of  our  neighbors,  a  wealthy  man  but  without 
religious  convictions,  was  expecting  the  arrival  of  a 
brother  from  Europe.  He  had  bought  for  him  a  farm 
of  immense  extent  and  had  employed  every  care  to  culti- 
vate and  improve  it.  The  brother,  a  man  of  upright 
character  and  brilliant  education,  found,  on  his  arrival, 
that  the  property  was  too  isolated  to  suit  his  taste.  Per- 
haps to  find  some  diversion,  he  used  to  come  to  our 
church  to  hear  the  sermons,  and  later  took  up  the  study 
of  our  holy  religion.  Soon  he  was  attacked  by  illness, 
and  immediately  he  sent  for  a  priest.  After  a  confes- 
sion during  which  he  manifested  the  deepest  contrition, 
he  obtained  the  grace  of  dying  in  the  Catholic  Church. 

i  Two  days  before  Eliza's  death,  her  parents  gave  a  large  dinner  party, 
during  which  a  Catholic  lady  left  the  table,  and  finding  Eliza  alone,  bap- 
tized her. 


LITTLE  DETAILS  FROM  ST.  MARY'S          289 

His  interment  took  place  with  all  possible  solemnity  at 
Saint  Mary-of- the- Woods.  The  solemnity,  of  course, 
could  not  compare  with  what  is  seen  in  European  coun- 
tries, but  such  as  it  is,  it  is  very  touching  and  makes  a 
profound  impression. 

His  death  upset  all  the  plans  for  future  happiness  of 
the  remaining  brother,  who  for  many  years  had  lived 
only  for  the  one  now  gone.  The  property  which  he  had 
beautified  in  the  hope  of  spending  his  life  there  with  the 
only  member  of  his  family  in  America  no  longer  sufficed 
for  his  heart. 

A  few  weeks  ago  he  came  to  our  chaplain,  saying: 
"Please  hear  my  confession;  I  cannot  sleep  any  more; 
I  wish  to  go  to  confession."  Father  Corbe,  thinking  he 
was  a  little  intoxicated,  advised  him  to  make  his  exami- 
nation of  conscience  and  to  return  the  next  day.  The 
poor  man  took  the  road  which  led  to  his  farm,  but  he 
could  not  proceed,  so  agitated  was  he  by  remorse  and 
anxiety.  At  last  he  retraced  his  steps,  and  asked  in  so 
supplicating  a  manner  to  go  to  confession  that  Father 
Corbe  could  not  refuse.  He  had  received  baptism  in  his 
infancy,  and  we  hope  that  he  will  soon  make  his  First 
Communion. 

This  good  news  will  console  you  a  little  for  the  burn- 
ing of  the  house  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  at  Frederick- 
town.  The  incendiaries,  before  enkindling  the  fire,  dis- 
abled the  fire  engines  so  that  the  progress  of  the  fire 
could  not  be  arrested.  The  house  was  burned  to  the 
ground.  We  may,  perhaps,  have  to  endure  a  similar 
misfortune.  A  few  days  ago  we  received  an  anonymous 
letter  warning  us  to  be  on  our  guard.  For  two  or  three 
nights  our  workmen  have  watched,  armed  with  guns. 
Some  men  were  found  hiding  in  our  fields,  but  God  per- 
mitted one  of  our  neighbors  to  see  them.  We  trust  that 
the  Blessed  Virgin,  who  has  always  been  a  mother  to  us, 
will  continue  to  protect  our  poor  community. 

I  have  already  told  you  that  our  mission  at  Madison 
is  greatly  exposed  to  the  persecutions  of  the  enemies  of 
Catholicity.  Not  long  since,  our  Sisters  wrote  that  the 
Presbyterian  minister  assembled  his  congregation  in  the 


290         LITTLE  DETAILS  FROM  ST.  MARY'S 

church,  and  then,  transported  by  the  Spirit,  disclosed 
all  the  infamies  perpetrated  by  priests  and  nuns  since 
the  beginning  of  the  Church!  He  ended  his  harangue 
by  hurling  anathemas  against  the  parents  who  sent  their 
children  to  Catholic  schools,  and  he  predicted  that  they 
would  not  escape  the  divine  vengeance.  "When  we  go 
to  Mass,"  wrote  one  of  our  Sisters  at  this  time,  "the  little 
rogues  of  boys,  seeing  us  with  our  pupils,  run  after  us, 
screaming,  'Sheep,  sheep,  sheep!'  They  also  pelt  us 
with  snowballs  (but  that  does  not  hurt  us),  and  some- 
times even  with  eggs  and  stones." 

The  persecutions  that  our  Sisters  have  been  suffering 
at  Madison  are  somewhat  abated.  Their  most  formid- 
able adversary,  however  (Mr.  Curtis),  called  together 
three  hundred  ministers  last  month,  in  order  to  devise 
in  council  some  means  of  doing  away  with  the  nuns. 
But  God  laughs  at  the  designs  of  men.  Their  ridiculous 
assembly  inspired  only  contempt,  and  since  that  time  the 
people  are  more  favorably  disposed  toward  our  holy 
religion. 

There  is  here  an  apostate  monk  from  Italy,  who  goes 
from  city  to  city  giving  lectures  on  the  progress  and 
danger  of  Catholicity.  He  was  lately  at  Cincinnati, 
and  I  read  a  portion  of  his  sixth  discourse  from  which 
I  quote:  "When  the  demon  wished  to  introduce  evil 
into  the  world  he  made  use  of  woman  to  corrupt  man ; 
now,  to  introduce  Catholicism  into  America,  he  makes 
use  of  the  nuns,  true  Eves,  with  their  sweet  and  engag- 
ing manners,  their  knowledge,  and  their  attractions. 
The  Jesuits  are  dangerous,  but  the  nuns  are  their  agents, 
and  are  still  more  to  be  feared.  Guard  against  sending 
your  children  to  their  schools,  and  even  against  placing 
among  them  servants  trained  by  the  Sisters,  for  they  will 
instill  their  bad  principles  into  the  hearts  of  your  chil- 
dren. The  evil  is  greater  than  you  think;  and  I  know 
better  than  you  that  Catholicism  is  daily  increasing,"  etc. 

We  do  indeed  remove  the  prejudices  of  our  pupils. 
The  parents  have  to  choose  between  the  inferiority  of 


LITTLE  DETAILS  FROM  ST.  MARY'S          291 

the  other  schools  and  what  they  call  the  superstition  of 
ours;  but,  as  many  prefer  having  their  children  well 
instructed,  they  send  them  to  us.  Our  boarding  school 
is  the  best  in  Indiana,  and  would  be  considered  very 
good  even  in  France.  We  have  about  eighty  pupils 
and  several  others  are  expected.  I  have  never  met 
young  girls  better  taught  than  our  first  pupils.  Mr. 
Pinatel,  an  old  naval  officer,  was  astonished  at  their 
knowledge  of  mathematics  and  astronomy.  As  these 
subjects  and  drawing  were  the  ones  to  which  he  had 
principally  devoted  himself,  this  part  of  the  examination 
pleased  him  best.  The  children  especially  excel,  how- 
ever, in  Christian  doctrine  and  in  sacred  and  ecclesias- 
tical history.  They  were  highly  commended,  and  with 
good  reason,  for  the  skill  they  show  with  the  needle, 
particularly  in  plain  sewing. 

Every  kind  of  absurdity  and  calumny  finds  acceptance 
with  some  of  the  people  here.  They  were  even  so  foolish 
as  to  believe  that  our  chaplain  had  horns.  One  mis- 
chievous little  woman,  now  a  Catholic,  told  the  villagers 
that  if  each  of  them  would  give  her  twenty-five  cents, 
she  would  beg  Father  Corbe  to  take  off  his  hat  and  let 
them  see  the  horns.  Not  seeing  them  on  his  head  the 
people  wanted  to  look  in  his  hat,  supposing  he  had  left 
them  there. 

A  solicitous  friend  wrote  as  follows  to  an  old  lady 
who  had  her  daughter  in  our  school  at  Terre  Haute: 
"Dear  Madam:  Although  I  have  not  the  honor  of  your 
acquaintance,  the  interest  I  take  in  your  daughter 
prompts  me  to  tell  you  that,  if  you  leave  her  with  the 
nuns,  she  will  be  lost.  Twenty  years  from  now  she  will 
remember  the  detestable  principles  she  has  imbibed 
there;  and  if  she  does  not  become  a  Catholic,  she  will  at 
least  defend  the  Sisters  all  her  life  and  on  all  occasions." 

The  good  lady  replied  that  she  was  old  enough  to 
judge  for  herself  and  wise  enough  to  know  how  to  bring 
up  her  own  children;  that  not  only  would  she  leave  her 
daughter  with  the  good  Sisters,  but  that  she  herself, 
when  her  dear  husband  should  be  no  more,  would  offer 


292         LITTLE  DETAILS  FROM  ST.  MARY'S 

herself  to  the  Sisters,  not  to  teach  in  the  boarding  school, 
but  to  serve  them  in  their  houses,  an  office  she  would 
consider  an  honor.  We  have  the  strangest  imaginable 
applications  for  admission.  Some,  like  this  lady,  still 
have  their  dear  husbands,  and  are  not  even  baptized; 
others  ask  to  be  received  for  a  year  only,  in  the  absence 
of  their  husbands;  others  would  like  to  be  Sisters,  but 
have  not  yet  decided  to  become  Catholics,  and  so  on. 


CHAPTER  XII 

DETAILS  OF   IRMA's   FAMILY 

TO  render  the  following  letters  intelligible  to  the 
reader,  it  is  necessary  to  mention  several  im- 
portant events  which  took  place  in  the  family 
of  Sister  Saint  Francis  from  1847  to  1852.  Allusions 
to  current  happenings  in  the  household  at  Saint  Servan 
occur  so  frequently  in  Irma's  letters  as  to  require  some 
explanation. 

In  1847  her  aunt,  Madame  Henri  le  Fer  de  la  Motte, 
died,  leaving  six  very  young  children,  and  a  husband 
who  was  affected  with  heart  disease.  Mademoiselle 
Pepa  le  Fer,  Irma's  sister,  offered  to  go  to  live  at  her 
uncle's,  in  order  to  assist  him  in  the  difficult  task  of 
bringing  up  his  children,  and  to  console  him  as  much 
as  was  in  her  power  for  the  loss  he  had  just  sustained. 
The  same  year  Mademoiselle  de  la  Salle,  Irma's  cousin, 
married  Monsieur  Charles  Vittu  de  Kraoul,  and  another 
of  her  cousins,  Mademoiselle  Olivia  le  Fer  de  Chantelou, 
married  Monsieur  des  Cognets. 

In  1850  one  of  her  father's  sisters,  Mademoiselle 
Jeanne  le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  who  lived  at  Lorette  and 
had  consecrated  her  life  to  the  orphan  asylum  of  Naza- 
reth, was  carried  off  in  a  few  hours  by  a  stroke  of  apo- 
plexy. Like  the  good  Abbe  Cardonnet,  she  was  struck 
down  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  and  like  him,  too,  she  was 
able  only  to  cross  the  threshold  of  the  sanctuary  before 
crossing  that  of  eternity.  Three  months  had  hardly 
passed  when  Monsieur  Henri  le  Fer  de  la  Motte  suc- 

293 


294  MEMBERS  OF  THE  FAMILY 

cumbed  in  his  turn — a  victim  to  heart  disease,  against 
which  he  had  been  struggling  for  several  years.  His 
death,  like  his  life,  was  full  of  faith,  courage,  and 
Christian  resignation.  On  the  last  day  of  his  life,  the 
return  home  of  his  two  eldest  sons,  who  had  just  passed 
their  examination  at  Brest,  was  expected.  He  counted 
the  hours,  even  the  minutes;  but  death  was  rapidly  ap- 
proaching and,  it  seemed,  would  arrive  first.  In  a  sus- 
pense which  naturally  would  have  ended  his  life,  he 
offered  to  God  the  last  and  painful  sacrifice  of  dying 
without  seeing  and  embracing  his  children.  God  willed, 
however,  to  prolong  his  agony,  and  on  the  brink  of  the 
grave  granted  him  this  supreme  consolation:  the  father 
saw  his  sons,  and  for  an  hour,  the  last  of  his  life,  he  was 
able,  with  a  firm  voice  and  an  undaunted  heart,  to  give 
them  the  last  great  counsels  of  a  Christian  father, 
counsels  to  which  death  affixes  a  sacred  character  and 
an  ineffaceable  remembrance. 

After  the  death  of  Monsieur  Henri  le  Fer  de  la 
Motte,  his  four  young  sons  were  taken  by  Irma's  father 
and  cared  for  at  Saint  Servan;  the  daughters  were  con- 
fided to  their  aunt,  Madame  de  la  Salle,  and  went  to  live 
at  Lorette. 

Despite  so  many  bereavements,  the  year  1851  was  a 
happy  one  for  Irma's  family.  Charles,  the  eldest  son, 
for  whom  Irma  had  a  special  affection,  had  during  a 
voyage  in  the  Pacific,  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  charm- 
ing young  lady,  Mademoiselle  Natalia  Valdivieso  of 
Valparaiso,  Chile.  He  had  the  happiness  of  winning 
her  heart,  but  as  her  mother  was  seriously  ill,  she  could 
not  think  of  leaving  her  when  Monsieur  Charles  le  Fer 
was  recalled  to  France.  Shortly  after  his  return  he 
learned  of  the  death  of  Madame  Valdivieso.  His  duties 
as  a  naval  officer  not  permitting  him  to  go  himself  to 


MEMBERS  OF  THE  FAMILY  295 

claim  his  bride,  he  was  represented  in  Chile  by  a  French 
gentleman,  one  of  his  friends,  and  contracted  thus,  be- 
fore God  and  man,  a  union  blessed  and  approved  by  the 
Church  and  sanctioned  equally  by  the  laws  of  Chile. 
During  her  long  voyage  from  South  America  to 
France,  Madame  Natalia  le  Fer  was  exposed  to  great 
dangers  from  the  sea,  from  fire,  and  from  yellow  fever. 
At  last,  after  seven  months  of  anguish  and  anxiety, 
Monsieur  Charles  le  Fer  had  the  happiness  of  receiving 
her  at  Lorient,  where  he  was  awaiting  her.  The  entire 
family  had  shared  the  uneasiness  caused  by  the  long 
delays  of  the  journey;  but  their  anxiety  was  changed 
into  thanksgiving  at  the  arrival  of  her  whom  they  loved 
in  advance,  and  who  entered  the  Le  Fer  family  only  to 
bring  into  it  and  to  receive  her  share  of  tenderness  and 
affection. 

Irma's  father  did  not  long  enjoy  the  presence  of  his 
dear  Chilian  daughter;  early  in  1852  God  called  him 
to  Himself;  thus  was  ended  the  life  of  labor  which  he 
had  so  generously  accomplished  here  below. 

In  the  same  year  two  of  Irma's  sisters  left  the  pater- 
nal roof,  Cecile  to  marry  Monsieur  Joseph  Choesnet, 
Elvire  to  join  her  sister  at  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods. 

To  HER  AUNT,  MADAME  DE  LA  SALLE 

On  the  occasion  of  her  cousin  Marie's  marriage  to 
Monsieur  Vittu  de  Kraoul,  1847,  Irma  wrote: 

I  have  been  reproached  on  all  sides  for  having  so  long 
deferred  my  letter  to  dear  Marie.  I  did  wrong  to  make 
the  least  delay,  but  I  was  so  sure  you  knew  my  sincere 
interest  in  this  dear  cousin  that  I  took  time  to  weep 
over  two  Sisters  whom  God  has  this  month  taken  from 
us. 

A  real   fault  which   I   have   committed,   confessed, 


296  MEMBERS  OF  THE  FAMILY 

and  I  hope  have  been  pardoned,  is  to  have  wished,  like 
Laban,  that  the  eldest  daughter  would  go  first.  Marie 
has  said  so  often  since  she  was  five  years  old,  "I  shall  be 
an  old  maid,"  that  she  should  not  be  astonished  at  my 
surprise.  Of  course  I  never  thought  she  was  to  ride 
to  paradise  in  a  carriage ;  but  deep  in  my  soul  there  was 
a  hope,  perhaps  too  human,  that  the  dear  child  would 
belong  to  God  alone.  Our  Lord  had  other  designs  on 
her  which  He  has  accomplished  for  her  happiness,  I 
trust,  and  for  yours  also.  My  dear  Marie!  I  did  not 
think  I  loved  her  so  much.  She  has  had  many  of  my 
prayers,  and  my  heart  will  always  be  devoted  to  her. 
We  were  the  two  worst  daughters  of  the  Abbe  Cardon- 
net,  but  I  hope  we  shall  have  a  cozy  little  place  near 
him  in  heaven.  Do  you  not  feel  joy  in  thinking  he  is 
there  awaiting  us,  praying  to  God  for  us,  interested  in 
whatever  happens  to  us,  and  that  he  is  happy,  happy 
forever?  I  wish,  nevertheless,  he  could  still  be  with 
us;  where  will  you  find  another  such  friend?  Alas! 
my  desire  is  very  imperfect,  for  Our  Lord  remains  with 
you  and  can  take  the  place  of  all,  yes,  even  of  our  be- 
loved grandmother  and  our  good  Abbe  Cardonnet.  I 
still  love  my  family  too  much.  I  should  like  to  see  all 
go  to  heaven  together,  so  that  we  should  not  have  to 
weep  over  one  another,  as  you  are  now  doing  over 
dear  Aunt  de  la  Motte,1  who  has  gone  to  our  home 
in  the  courts  of  bliss  eternal. 

When  I  consider  that  I  was  the  first  of  all  to  leave 
you,  and  that  I  am  still  on  the  road,  it  almost  grieves 
me.  Yet  I  came  here  for  my  poor  neighbor,  and  God 
blesses  so  generously  the  little  we  do  for  Him  that  it 
would  be  a  pity  to  regret  being  on  earth  a  few  years 
longer. 

The  following  year  she  wrote  again  to  this  aunt : 

I  love  my  cousin  Charles  2  very  much.  Last  night  I 
saw  him  in  a  dream ;  he  seemed  somewhat  dark  and  had 
a  black  beard.  He  gave  me  his  hand,  according  to 

1  Madame  Henri  le  Per  de  la  Motte,  born  Grout  de  Riviere. 

2  Husband  of  Marie  de  la  Salle  de  KraouL 


MEMBERS  OF  THE  FAMILY  297 

the  American  fashion,  but  at  a  little  sign  from  Marie 
we  embraced  each  other  very  cordially. 

On  the  feast  of  the  Assumption  I  prayed  very  fer- 
vently for  the  Maries.  The  4th  of  November  I  shall 
recommend  in  my  prayers  one  Charles  more.  My  good 
aunt,  be  assured  that  if  God  reserves  great  joy  or  sor- 
rows for  you,  there  will  be  at  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods 
a  heart  that  will  share  them.  Oh !  what  a  feast  I  am  an- 
ticipating on  seeing  you  all  again  in  heaven!  You  will 
make  me  acquainted  with  the  new  members  of  the 
family,  and  I  shall  show  you  your  American  grand- 
nephews  and  grandnieces. 

At  another  time  to  the  same  aunt  she  says : 

The  other  day  while  with  our  young  Sisters,  who  were 
rilling  our  bed  ticks  with  corn  husks,  I  talked  to  them 

of  my  grandmother,  of  my  uncle  (Monsieur  de  C ) , 

and  of  his  conversion.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  relate  what 
grandmother  used  to  say  to  him  in  order  to  touch  his 
heart  and  bring  him  to  God.  This  father  of  a  family 
could  never  visit  his  aunt  without  hearing  her  say  to 
him,  "My  little  lad,  I  beg  you  to  go  to  confession." 

Tired  of  the  phrase,  Monsieur  de  C replied  one 

day  with  some  vivacity,  "Certainly,  aunt,  you  would 
not  wish  me  to  go  to  confession  merely  to  please  you?" 
"Yes,  my  child;  go  the  first  time  for  nothing  else,  and 
we  shall  then  see  about  the  second."  He  did  so,  and 
grace  recompensed  the  effort  made  through  human  af- 
fection. I  told  the  Sisters  of  my  grandmother's  de- 
votion to  Saint  Joseph,  her  ardent  faith,  and  her  love 
of  prayer  which  escaped  from  her  lips  as  naturally  as 
the  perfume  is  exhaled  from  the  petals  of  a  flower. 

Oh!  what  consolation  I  found  in  speaking  thus  of  the 
virtues  of  my  dear  grandmother.  More  than  once  I 
saw  tears  in  the  eyes  of  the  Sisters,  and  you  may  be- 
lieve mine  were  not  too  dry.  I  often  say  that  it  was 
my  godmother  who  endowed  me  with  this  gift  of  sweat- 
ing of  the  eyes.  Dear  Aunt  Marie!  she  had  so  many 
other  good  things  to  give  me  she  might  have  kept  this  for 


298  PEPA'S  NEW  CHARGE 

herself,  particularly  as  Mother  Theodore  cannot  endure 
it.  Whenever  I  gently  wipe  the  tip  of  my  nose,  I 
suddenly  receive  a  more  than  gentle  tap  on  my  shoulder. 
I  have  so  bad  a  reputation  in  this  respect  that  I  have  to 
sneeze  at  least  three  times  before  they  will  believe  I 
have  a  cold.  We  have  family  defects  which  we 
carry  to  all  countries,  but  the  worst  of  all,  as  Henri 
says,  is  that  we  love  one  another  so  much. 

To  HEE  SISTER  PEPA 

(Residing  with  her  uncle,  Monsieur  le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  and  taking  care  of 
her  young  cousins.) 

[1847  or  1848]. 

My  dear  sister,  I  hope  you  have  experienced  the  effect 
of  the  novena  made  here  for  you.  Let  God  take  care 
of  you  while  you  take  care  of  others.  Ah!  my  dear 
sister,  believe  me  you  have  nothing,  or  almost  nothing 
to  suffer.  There  are  not,  perhaps,  in  the  whole  world 
three  families  as  happy  as  ours.  I  am  ashamed  of  you 
when  I  read  what  the  holy  Fathers  say  on  the  necessity 
of  suffering.  What  reassures  me  is  that  you  make 
crosses  for  yourself,  and  by  this  means  you  are  on  the 
royal  way.  If  you  could  know,  as  Mother  Theodore 
and  I  do,  how  few  truly  happy  people  there  are,  you 
would  spend  half  of  your  life  in  thanksgiving.  To 
have  parents  like  ours  is  a  favor  which  we  can  never 
appreciate.  Charles  said  to  me  once,  in  speaking  of 
my  father,  "He  is  the  most  honest  man  I  have  ever 
known."  The  expression  made  me  smile  at  the  time, 
yet  it  is  nevertheless  true,  for  as  Fenelon  says,  great 
souls  alone  know  the  glory  of  being  good. 

Be  assured  I  sympathize  with  you  in  your  trials;  in 
former  times,  I,  like  you,  did  not  know  the  storms  of 
Mount  Calvary.  You  have  heard  something  of  our 
troubles.  I  think  there  are  few  communities  tried  as 
ours  is.  Let  us  bless  the  holy  will  of  God  in  all  our 
afflictions,  remembering  that  it  is  not  the  one  who  has 
done  most,  but  the  one  who  has  loved  and  suffered  most, 
that  will  receive  the  brightest  crown.  The  roses  of 


PEPA'S  NEW  CHARGE  299 

paradise  have  their  roots  here  below;  let  us  not  fear 
to  wound  ourselves  with  the  thorns,  if  in  the  heavenly 
garden  we  wish  to  gather  the  blossoms,  for  with  our 
empurpled  hands  we  shall  weave  a  brilliant  wreath  of 
glory. 

I  know  the  extent  of  your  sacrifice  in  leaving  our 
father  and  mother  to  devote  yourself  to  the  education 
of  our  dear  little  cousins.  It  is  a  noble  but  also  a  very 
difficult  task.  Isabelle  is,  perhaps,  the  one  who  in  the 
future  will  give  you  the  most  satisfaction.  I  offered 
my  Holy  Communion  for  Frederick  on  the  10th  of 
May,  the  day  of  his  First  Communion.  You  and  my 
dear  uncle  are  never  separated  in  my  prayers  and  in 
my  affection.  Say  to  Olivia  that  I  did  not  forget  her 
on  the  day  of  her  marriage.  Much  love  to  her  sisters 
and  to  our  new  cousin. 

Irma  thanks  her  mother  for  news  of  her  brothers : 

Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  1849. 

Your  letter,  dear  mother,  was  like  a  tete-a-tete  on 
the  Thursdays  of  long  ago,1  and  all  you  wrote  of  our 
dear  boys  has  interested  me  much.  I  imagine  Charles 
is  now  at  Saint  Servan  telling  you  of  his  travels.  I 
have  read  and  reread,  and  I  shall  read  again,  the  ac- 
count of  his  expedition  to  New  Caledonia.  We  should 
rejoice  that  he  is  laboring  for  our  holy  religion.  God 
knows  it ;  this  suffices.  You  were  right  in  thinking  how 
happy  this  news  would  make  me.  I  should  like  so 
much  to  have  his  interesting  details  of  the  missions  of 
Oceanica  published  in  the  Annals  of  the  Propagation  of 
the  Faith.  Will  not  this  dear  brother  pay  me  a  visit 
in  one  of  his  voyages?  Tell  him  that  he  can  come  from 
New  Orleans  to  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods  in  four 
days. 

Is  Eugene  still  pleased  where  he  is?  There  is  a 
postulant  here  who  has  his  sweet  smile.  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  conversing  with  a  fellow-student  of  Paul, 

i  A  day  on  which  Irma  and  her  mother,  being  often  alone  together,  spoke 
heart  to  heart. 


300  REVIEW  OF  STUDIES 

Abbe  Contin,  of  Chateauneuf.  He  is  staying  here 
during  the  absence  of  Father  Corbe,  whom  Bishop  de 
Saint  Palais  has  taken  as  theologian  to  the  Council  of 
Baltimore.  He  is  a  very  learned  man,  and  I  have  looked 
over  my  Latin  with  him  in  an  old  grammar,  half  the 
leaves  of  which  my  lupus  *  had  eaten  up.  From  time 
to  time  I  stopped  to  recall  the  past,  especially  at  me 
poenitetf  me  pudet,  the  lesson  most  terrible  for  poor 
Paul. 

Shall  I  confess  to  you  something  that  gave  me  great 
pleasure?  To  understand  it  fully  one  must  have  spent 
eight  years  among  these  grave  Americans.  Well,  the 
pleasure  was  to  hear  Abbe  Contin  scramble  down  the 
stairs  as  my  brothers  used  to  do.  I  also  reviewed 
algebra  and  geometry  with  him.  I  can  understand  how 
very  fatiguing  plus  and  minus  must  be  for  young  heads. 
The  Americans  are  better  fitted  than  we  for  studies  of 
this  sort,  because  their  imagination  does  not  trouble 
them. 

You  ask  if  I  know  young  Roquet.2  Why,  he  is  chief 
singer  in  our  church!  We  consider  him  as  a  child  of 
the  house,  and  he  regards  us  as  part  of  his  family.  He 
is  married  to  one  of  our  neighbors,  and  he  has  a  little 
daughter*  whom  he  thinks  charming,  and  she  certainly 
is.  Mother  Theodore  makes  him  do  as  she  pleases;  in- 
deed she  exercises  great  influence  on  all  around  her. 

Poor  Marcile's  4  shop  was  destroyed  by  fire,  but  the 
people  of  Vincennes  brought  in  another  for  him  which 
was  three  miles  from  the  city;  emigrations  of  this  kind 
are  truly  droll.  While  Mother  Theodore  was  at  dinner 
in  a  three-story  house  in  New  York,  she  felt  herself 
being  moved,  and  upon  asking  the  cause  of  the  motion 
was  told  very  composedly  that  they  were  moving  the 
house  to  another  street. 

Napoleon's  nomination  astonished  us  much.  God 
wills  it;  I  say  no  more.  Is  my  dear  uncle  still  an  in- 

1  Paul  her  brother. 

2  A  young  man  who  had  lived  at  Saint  Servan. 
s  Mrs.»Margaret  Roquet  Wheeler. 

*  Marcile,  a  builder,  formerly  of  Saint  Servan. 


IRMA'S  AUNT  MARIE  LE  FER  301 

valid?  He  suffers  so  patiently  that  I  cannot  pity  him. 
My  father  and  he  are  destined  to  occupy  in  heaven  the 
places  of  the  patriarchs  of  our  families.  The  younger 
ones  will  be  too  low  unless  their  heads  are  raised  a 
little. 

To  HER  AUNT,  MADEMOISELLE  MARIE  LE  FER 

January,  1850. 

At  last,  my  beloved  aunt,  I  come  to  have  a  talk  with 
you;  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  am  employing  thus  a  time 
when  I  can  do  nothing  else.  It  will  be  like  one  of  our 
little  evening  chats  in  the  chimney  corner  while  we  were 
waiting  for  the  lighting  of  the  candles.  We  used  to  say 
then,  "We  shall  not  be  losing  our  time,  for  we  cannot 
see  to  work,  so  we  can  talk  in  peace." 

Tell  me  now,  how  is  your  dear  heart?  Will  the  poor 
little  thing  never  grow  old?  I  thought  that  after  the 
death  of  those  who  have  been  taken  from  us  you  would 
be  more  free;  on  the  contrary,  you  tell  me  you  are  worse 
than  before,  because  you  fear  for  the  health  and  the  life 
of  those  who  remain.  I  do  not  know  what  remedy  to 
suggest,  since  neither  absence  nor  death  can  heal  your 
wounds.  "Love  is  strong  as  death,"  says  Solomon. 
Well,  it  should  be  stronger  than  death,  for  the  love  of 
God  must  triumph  over  your  heart.  I  think  I  hear 
you  answer:  "I  should,  indeed,  be  happy  if  I  could  love 
God;  but  I  am  so  distracted  at  my  prayers,  so  cold  in 
my  Communions,  so  uneasy  when  there  is  sickness  in 
the  family.  I  should  like  to  love  for  God's  sake  only, 
but  nature  makes  itself  felt."  Yes,  I  believe  you  have 
said  the  truth ;  but  should  you  despond  because  you  can- 
not overcome  your  weakness?  No,  no;  perhaps  you 
would  become  too  proud,  if  you  could  love  God  accord- 
ing to  your  liking;  perhaps  you  would  not  be  compas- 
sionate toward  the  weak,  if  you  did  not  make  one  of 
the  number.  Our  Lord  will  love  you  just  as  you  are, 
so  long  as  you  do  not  love  yourself  too  much.  Ah !  see 
what  glory  it  will  be  for  Him  to  have  towed  such  a  bark 
as  yours  into  heaven.  All  the  saints  and  angels  will 


302  IRMA'S  AUNT  MARIE  LE  FER 

rejoice  and  say:  "Behold  among  us  the  one  whose  heart 
was  glued  to  every  creature,  who  was  able  only  to  fear 
and  to  weep!  Who  can  have  brought  her  here?" 
You  will  point  to  Our  Lord  and  say  to  them:  "He  who 
left  ninety-nine  sheep  in  the  desert  to  go  after  the  one 
that  had  strayed  away,  carried  me  here  on  His  shoulders. 
That  is  why  you  see  me  among  you."  You  will  lay 
your  crown  at  His  feet,  and  leave  to  the  other  saints  the 
palm  of  the  victorious.  I  think  I  shall  have  to  do  the 
same.  But  we  will  not  be  jealous  of  the  others;  will 
we? 

I  received  a  long  letter  from  my  mother,  in  which  she 
speaks  of  you  all.  She  tells  me  that  little  Charles  [de 
Kraoul]  is  charming;  kiss  him  for  me,  also  his  brother 
George.  The  other  night  I  had  a  dream.  I  had  re- 
turned to  Lorette,  (this  often  happens).  You  were,  as 
usual,  very  good,  very  amiable,  but  the  drawing-room 
had  a  mournful  air,  and  my  grandmother's  old  armchair 
was  vacant.  "It  is  useless,"  you  said  to  me,  weeping, 
"it  is  useless  to  try  to  be  cheerful;  her  place  can  never 
be  filled."  I  replied  that  my  aunt,  Madame  de  la  Salle, 
having  much  of  her  mother's  character,  was  perhaps 
capable  of  taking  her  place;  but  my  dear  aunt  ap- 
proached me  and  said,  "We  love  one  another,  but  our 
center  of  happiness  is  taken  away,  our  chief  is  no  more ; 
never  can  I  replace  our  mother."  Would  you  believe 
that  this  dream  followed  me  throughout  the  day?  I 
said  to  Our  Lord  that  henceforth  He  would  be  the  center 
of  our  happiness,  and  I  thanked  Him  for  taking  to 
Himself  our  good  grandmother,  to  give  her  back  to  us 
some  day  in  heaven. 

Upon  learning  of  the  death  of  her  aunt,  Mademoiselle 
Jeanne  le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  Irma  wrote: 

To  HER  AUNT,  MADAME  DE  LA  SALLE 

Another  vacant  place  in  dear  Lorette,  and  another 
saint  in  heaven!  So  my  good  Aunt  Jeanne  is  dead! 
I  can  hardly  believe  it.  It  seems  to  me  I  still  see  her 
asleep  in  her  armchair  near  the  glass  door.  But  her 


DEATH  OF  HER  AUNT  JEANNE      303 

death,  too,  is  a  sleep.  Tell  me  all  about  her  last  mo- 
ments, for,  though  mamma  promised  that  Eugenie 
would  give  me  the  particulars,  she  has  not  done  so. 

Cecile  told  me  about  aunt's  last  interview  with  my 
uncle.  How  little  we  know  what  is  to  happen  to  usl 
I  hardly  dare  to  write  to  uncle,  so  much  am  I  distressed 
on  his  account;  and  yet  after  all,  may  I  not  go  before 
he  does?  How  good  it  is  to  abandon  ourselves  to  the 
will  of  God!  He  alone  knows  the  favorable  time  to 
call  us  to  Himself.  When  Mother  Theodore  received 
mamma's  letter,  I  had  the  headache.  The  good  Mother 
was  like  a  spirit  about  my  bed,  for  she  cannot  hide  any- 
thing from  me.  I  talked  of  my  holy  Aunt  Jeanne,  and 
I  said  she  was  the  only  person  I  knew  that  loved  hu- 
miliations. But  how  little  I  thought  then  that  she  was 
already  crowned  with  glory!  The  next  day,  when  my 
headache  had  left  me,  Mother  Theodore  announced  to 
me  what  nature  calls  sad  news,  but  what  faith  terms  a 
favor.  I  shed  tears,  but  my  tears  were  of  tenderness 
and  gratitude  when  I  remembered  the  generous  heart 
Our  Lord  had  given  my  dearly  loved  aunt.  Oh!  how 
He  loved  her,  how  He  loves  you,  how  He  loves  us  all! 
With  all  my  heart  I  echoed  uncle's  words,  "The  distance 
which  separates  us  is  so  short  that  we  should  not  be 
afflicted  at  her  departure."  I  feel  that  she  is  too  happy 
to  be  wept  over.  I  pray  for  her  and  I  invoke  her.  Our 
Sisters  made  the  Way  of  the  Cross  for  her ;  but  I  must 
confess  that  neither  Mother  Theodore  nor  I  feel  like 
praying  for  her,  for  we  seem  to  see  her  in  heaven  inter- 
ceding for  all  our  family,  for  the  Providence  of  Naz- 
areth, for  the  Sodality  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  also 
for  the  Sisters  of  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods.  She  loved 
us  dearly. 

I  must  admit,  however,  that  when  I  think  of  my 
dear  godmother1  my  heart  sinks.  I  know  her  weak- 
ness, yet  I  am  reassured  in  calling  to  mind  what  Our 
Lord  can  do  with  a  reed.  I  pray  for  her,  she  may  be 
sure  of  that.  Yet  a  little  while  longer  and  we  shall  all 
be  in  our  beautiful  paradise — grandmother,  uncle,  aunts, 

i  Marie  de  la  Motto,  Aunt  Jeanne's  sister. 


304  PREMIUMS  FOR  THE  PUPILS 

brothers  and  sisters — and   when  we   are   all  together 
again,  we  shall  laugh  at  the  tears  we  shed  on  earth. 

It  seems  to  me,  as  I  have  said  before,  that  those  who 
die  become  my  neighbors.  They  hear  me,  they  see  me, 
and,  what  is  more,  they  obtain  my  requests.  Notwith- 
standing the  comfort  of  being  so  near  my  saintly  aunt, 
I  am  overcome  by  an  indescribable  feeling  of  shame. 
She,  who  always  judged  so  charitably  of  others,  without 
doubt  believed  me  to  be  a  true  religious.  But  when  I 
think  of  her  astonishment  at  finding  me  so  full  of  de- 
fects, I  hide  my  face  in  my  hands  and  almost  die  of  con- 
fusion. For  you  must  know  that  I  am  far  from  per- 
fect, that  I  am  proud,  impatient,  etc.,  etc.  I  say  this  to 
you,  so  you  will  not  have  to  learn  it  from  Our  Lord  when 
He  speaks  to  you  in  heaven  of  His  poor  child.  And 
yet  I  find  comfort  in  the  thought  that,  seeing  my  faults, 
she  will  pray  that  I  may  become  better.  She  also  will 
astonish  us  when  all  her  mortifications  and  humiliations 
are  revealed.  Tell  me  something  of  them  when  you 
write ;  tell  me  everything  you  know  about  her. 

Later  on  Sister  Saint  Francis  wrote : 

I  have  just  come  from  a  distribution  of  prizes  to  the 
children  of  our  log  house.  I,  being  the  superintendent 
of  our  free  school,  invited  Mother  Theodore  to  preside 
and  to  make  an  address.  The  assembly  was  large. 
Unfortunately  for  me,  my  superior  after  looking  at  the 
premiums  said  terrible  things  to  me  in  French,  such  as : 
"If  you  invite  me  again  to  give  such  horrors,  I  shall 
burn  the  premiums  and  the  table  too."  Her  indigna- 
tion, however,  did  not  prevent  the  ceremony  from  being 
quite  fine.  Parents  and  children  alike  were  delighted 
with  the  rewards.  Yet,  to  appease  Mother  Theodore, 
I  shall  ask  you  to  send  for  next  year  some  little  flutes 
and  spinning  tops.  My  good  Bishop  Bazin  acted 
much  better  than  Mother  Theodore  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances. When  he  came  to  see  us  for  the  first  time 
at  Vincennes,  I  was  just  about  to  give,  as  a  prize  for 


BAPTISMS  AND  FIRST  COMMUNION  305 

catechism,  a  hazelnut  fashioned  into  a  basket  with  a 
little  ribbon  for  a  handle.  I  offered  it  to  the  bishop  to 
present,  and  he  did  so  with  all  the  dignity  of  a  bishop ; 
but  you  may  be  sure  our  Sisters  made  me  pay  for  my 
nut! 

About  a  month  ago  we  had  First  Communion. 
Olivier  *  is  the  last  of  our  family ;  but  every  year  we 
here  have  children  to  present  to  Our  Lord.  Our  little 
girls  are  very  fervent,  and,  to  show  their  love  for  God, 
they  practice  all  kinds  of  mortification.  The  other  day 
after  they  had  lighted  a  candle  before  a  statue  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin,  their  ardent  zeal  prompted  them  to  burn 
their  fingers  in  her  honor.  They  were  in  the  act  of 
doing  so  when,  fortunately,  a  Sister  entered.  This  re- 
minds me  of  your  telling  us  how  you  once  dragged  your- 
self on  your  knees  over  the  nails  in  the  floor.  What 
consoles  us  most  is  that  the  children  are  correcting  their 
faults.  On  the  day  of  First  Communion  three  of  our 
pupils  were  baptized,  which  makes  seven  who  have  had 
this  happiness  during  the  year.  Poor  Charlotte,  of 
whom  I  spoke  to  my  father,  has  been  refused  by  her 
parents;  yet  she  has  not  given  up  her  desire  of  being  a 
Catholic,  and  is  preparing  to  be  driven  from  her  home. 

Adieu,  my  cherished  aunt;  believe  me,  I  love  you 
just  as  much  as  when  Cecile  and  I  prayed  it  might  rain 
hard,  so  that  my  father  would  let  me  spend  the  night 
at  Lorette.  I  love  you  now,  as  then,  in  Him,  who  made 
the  calm  and  the  storm — I  love  you  in  God,  in  whom 
there  is  no  change. 

MOTHER  THEODORE  TO  MADAME  LE  FER 

June  3,  1851. 
Madame  and  very  dear  Friend, 

I  reproach  myself  severely  for  having  delayed 
the  letter  of  your  dear  daughter  for  some  days.  I  did 
not  wish  to  let  it  start  without  writing  and  letting  you 
know  that  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  share  in  all 
your  sorrows  and  pain.  God  afflicts  you.  He  has 

i  The  youngest  of  her  uncle's  four  sons. 


306   MOTHER  THEODORE  TO  MME.  LE  FER 

called  away  two  persons,  worthy  objects  of  your  affec- 
tion and  that  of  your  family.  You  have  deeply  felt 
these  separations,  but  in  the  midst  of  your  tears  and  sor- 
rows, how  greatly  you  have  all  been  consoled  by  the 
thought  of  the  happiness  which  they  now  enjoy  in 
heaven.  For  my  part,  I  am  more  inclined  to  invoke 
them  than  to  pray  for  them ;  you  have  really  a  family  of 
saints.  I  often  tell  Sister  Saint  Francis  that  I  forgive 
her  willingly  for  loving  you  so  much.  I  gladly  share  her 
sentiments ;  for  I  feel  in  my  heart  an  affection  so  tender 
and  so  full  of  respect  for  your  whole  family,  that  I  some- 
times fear  lest  I  go  too  far.  Natalia  too  has  already  a 
great  share  in  our  love  and  in  our  prayers.  I  hope  you 
will  have  embraced  her  when  you  receive  this  letter,  and 
I  trust  she  will  be  like  your  other  daughters.  God 
gives  her  to  you  for  your  consolation  and,  I  believe,  for 
the  salvation  of  a  soul  which  is  very  dear  to  us. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  wrote  you,  I  suppose,  that  we  had 
both  been  ill  in  November ,  she  at  Saint  Mary's  and  I  at 
Vincennes.  Never  did  I  suffer  more  than  in  being 
away  from  this  dear  child  during  her  illness.  I  had 
the  presumption  to  think  that  no  one  could  take  care  of 
her  as  well  as  I  could.  I  even  said  so,  and  behaved  very 
badly,  I  must  admit.  But  I  was  not  the  only  one;  the 
dear  sick  child  was  not  more  reasonable.  We  were 
laughed  at  a  little,  and  we  also  laughed  when  we  were  to- 
gether again.  You  must  not  be  disedified  at  our  be- 
havior ;  we  truly  love  each  other  very  tenderly,  but  I  do 
not  think  this  affection  is  displeasing  to  God.  If  I  were 
to  lose  Sister  Saint  Francis  now,  where  would  I  find  a 
Mistress  of  Novices  who  would,  by  her  words  and  ex- 
ample, cause  virtue  to  be  loved  and  cherished  as  she 
does?  These  chosen  and  privileged  souls  are  rare  even 
in  France;  you  know  it,  dear  mother,  and  you  will  ex- 
cuse my  predilection.  Here  no  one  is  jealous  of  it; 
every  one  else  loves  her  very  much  also ;  who  could  help 
loving  her?  Oh!  our  good  God  does  not  forbid  us  to 
love,  happily  for  Madame  le  Fer,  is  it  not?  To  love 
in  the  right  way  is  to  accomplish  the  whole  law;  it  is  to 
begin  that  happy  life  which  will  have  its  perfection  only 


LETTERS  TO  HER  FATHER  307 

in  heaven  where  we  shall  live  forever  with  a  holy  and 
perfect  love. 

Were  I  to  try  to  thank  you,  dear  Madame  le  Fer,  for 
all  your  favors  in  particular,  I  should  have  to  write  a 
volume;  for  what  do  we  not  owe  to  your  generosity? 
We  tell  our  gratitude  to  God;  yes,  to  Him  we  confide 
the  care  of  rewarding  the  good  that  for  His  love  you 
have  done  to  the  poor  daughters  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- 
Woods.  I  dare  hope  that,  in  His  infinite  bounty,  He 
will  listen  to  the  supplications  we  offer  for  you  and  all 
your  family,  prayers  by  which  we  ask  His  graces  and 
blessings  in  time,  and  the  happiness  of  possessing  Him 
in  eternity.  Be  pleased,  Madame,  to  be  the  interpreter 
to  your  dear  children  of  my  sentiments;  especially  do 
not  forget  Monsieur  le  Fer,  for  whom  I  entertain  a 
sentiment  of  profound  veneration. 

With  filial  affection  for  yourself,  dear  mother,  I  am 
all  yours  in  Our  Lord, 

SISTER  THEODORE. 

IRMA  TO  HER  FATHER 

March,  1851. 

I  hope  our  dear  Natalia  will  have  come  to  the  end  of 
her  journey  when  this  letter  reaches  you.  I  am  glad 
she  is  called  Joanna  de  Dios;  this  Saint  John  is  one  of 
my  friends.  I  seem  to  see  you  all,  according  to  your 
various  fashions,  preparing  to  receive  her:  my  mother 
hastening  about,  making  purchases,  decorating  the 
house,  etc.;  and  you,  cherished  father,  searching  the 
depths  of  your  memory  for  some  old  Spanish  words. 
How  good  God  is  to  have  given  Charles  this  dear  child ! 
The  older  I  grow,  the  more  I  am  convinced  that  God 
loves  our  family  with  a  love  of  predilection. 

I  thought  I  had  made  an  extraordinary  "expedition," 
but  Natalia  has  surpassed  me.  Now  a  journey  can  be 
made  from  New  York  to  Havre  in  nine  days,  and  from 
New  York  to  Terre  Haute  in  three  days;  thus,  in  less 
than  fifteen  days  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods  may  be 
reached  from  Saint  Servan.  But,  my  dear  father,  in 


808  LETTERS  TO  HER  FATHER 

one  second  we  may  be  united  to  the  Heart  of  Our  Lord. 
Let  us  not  think  of  any  other  rendezvous  on  earth;  we 
shall  have  a  whole  eternity  to  be  happy  together.  Our 
hearts  and  our  thoughts  communicate  more  swiftly  than 
the  telegraph  system  in  the  United  States  which,  by 
means  of  an  electric  wire,  brings  news  in  a  few  minutes 
from  New  York  to  Terre  Haute.  Though  the  little  in- 
cidents of  our  lives  may  be  unknown  to  one  another,  we 
feel  the  same  emotions,  we  desire  the  same  graces,  we 
are  thankful  for  the  same  favors,  we  love  the  same  God, 
and  we  hope  for  the  same  felicity.  Oh!  what  sweet 
ties! 

During  March,  Saint  Joseph's  month,  I  often  think 
of  my  dear  grandmother.  I  believe  she  has  obtained 
for  me  a  true  devotion  to  her  dear  bon  homme,  as  she 
used  to  call  him.  He  is  a  never  failing  source  of  suc- 
cess to  me.  I  go  into  more  minute  details  in  talking  to 
him  of  our  family  affairs  than  I  do  even  with  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  and  this  great  Saint  does  all  I  ask  him. 

In  another  letter  to  her  father  she  says : 

Towards  the  end  of  last  month  I  paid  a  visit  to  Vin- 
cennes.  You  cannot  imagine  what  a  pleasure  it  was  for 
me  to  be  among  our  little  orphans.  They  represent 
nearly  all  the  different  nationalities.  Many  of  them 
who  belong  to  non-Catholic  families  have  been  baptized. 
It  would  delight  you  to  hear  them  say  the  Litany  of 
Divine  Providence :  "Providence  of  God,  support  of  the 
orphans,"  "Providence  of  God,  which  nourishes  those 
that  are  hungry,"  etc.  And  you  should  see  with  what 
relish  they  eat  what  the  good  Providence  sends  them. 
Their  appetite  filled  me  with  wonder  then,  but  now  the 
memory  of  it  alarms  me,  for  supplies  are  very  scarce  this 
winter  and,  unless  God  sends  them  aid,  they  will  suffer 
much.  A  collection  will  be  taken  up  for  them  at  Christ- 
mas, but,  if  it  is  not  successful,  we  shall  have  the  grief 
of  seeing  many  of  these  poor  little  ones  thrown  back 
upon  the  world. 

I  do  not  know  whether  in  my  last  letter  I  sufficiently 


TO  HER  GODCHILD  309 

described  the  joy  of  our  pupils  at  the  arrival  of  the  box, 
and  at  the  sight  of  your  Caroline  [a  doll].  It  is  like  the 
robes  of  Peau-d'ane,  they  said,  always  more  and  more 
beautiful.  Nothing  was  heard  but  exclamations  of 
gratitude.  They  must  have  the  pattern  of  its  dress  and 
spencer.  The  youngest  said,  "Look  at  her  feet  and  her 
little  hands,  and  her  eyes  with  tears  in  them!"  Your 
boxes  are  always  greeted  with  shouts  of  joy.  Thank 
you,  my  beloved  father. 

May  I  ask  you  to  thank  Pauline  Demolon  for  her 
pretty  pearl  necklace?  I  placed  it  among  the  orna- 
ments of  the  tabernacle.  I  could  not  find  a  more  hon- 
orable place  for  it.  Thank  also  dear  Helenie  Le- 
francois  for  the  beautiful  holy-water  font.  We  shall 
repay  her  with  our  prayers. 

To  HER  SISTER  CLEMENTINE 

Though  I  am  no  longer  with  you  in  the  evening  to 
listen  to  your  thoughts,  my  dear  little  sister,  you  have 
always  near  you  a  good  friend,  your  Guardian  Angel 
who  now  does  all  the  work.  When  I  was  home,  I  tried 
to  help  him  a  little,  but  at  your  age  then  that  little  was 
not  very  acceptable.  My  dear  child,  when  I  was  young 
I  was  once  like  you  and  cared  little  for  advice.  Now, 
however,  you  would  like  to  have  your  poor  godmother 
at  your  side.  You  have  really  not  lost -her,  for  I  shall 
whisper  where  to  find  her.  Go  and  place  yourself  with 
great  confidence  and  humility  before  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment in  the  chapel  at  Nazareth,  and  there  knock  at  the 
door  of  the  Heart  of  Jesus.  He  will  open  it  and  you 
will  enter,  and  there  in  a  little  corner  you  will  find  your 
Irma  with  all  her  weaknesses.  Do  not  fear  that  your 
relatives  will  prevent  your  admittance  there.  I  gave 
you  to  Our  Lord  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament  the  day  of 
your  First  Communion  and,  yesterday,  when  reminding 
our  good  Savior  of  that  gift,  I  asked  Him  how  a  present 
given  with  so  good  a  heart  could  be  refused. 

You  are  now  at  an  age  when  vocation  may  be  known. 
Having  told  you  to  confide  yourself  to  the  tender  Heart 


810  THE  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

of  Jesus,  my  further  advice  is :  every  day,  at  the  end  of 
your  meditations,  address  a  short  prayer  to  this  Divine 
Heart  and  to  the  Heart  of  Mary,  that  they  may  give  you 
the  means  of  consecrating  yourself  to  their  service. 

The  vocation  to  a  religious  life  is  nothing  else  than  the 
desire  of  this  vocation  when  there  is  no  impediment  either 
in  body  or  mind.  Bad  health  is  an  obstacle  for  the  body ; 
a  head  filled  with  crooked  notions,  or  scrupulosity  is  an 
obstacle  for  the  mind.  When  I  was  in  the  world  I  be- 
lieved vocation  to  be  a  sort  of  personage  that  would  seize 
me  and  force  me  to  follow  it.  And  indeed  my  vocation 
was  of  that  kind.  Perhaps  it  was  needful,  for  instead 
of  having  a  desire,  I  was  afraid  to  become  a  religious. 
God  had  to  say  to  me  through  Pere  Besnoin,  "You  must 
go  to  America."  God  has  since  called  me  to  decide  the 
vocation  of  others,  and  I  have  not  yet  found  one  re- 
sembling mine.  Some  of  the  young  girls  here  had  not 
even  thought  of  consulting  their  confessor.  They  ask 
admittance  because  they  hope  to  be  saved  more  surely, 
or  to  aid  their  neighbor,  or  because  religious  seem  to  be 
happy.  God  is  satisfied  with  these  motives,  and  He 
afterwards  perfects  them. 

Some  young  girls  fear  to  embrace  a  religious  life  be- 
cause they  lack  the  courage  to  overcome  and  to  renounce 
themselves.  They  hear  an  interior  voice,  an  appeal 
urging  them,  and,  though  they  have  no  relish  for  a  re- 
ligious vocation,  nevertheless  they  have  one.  Call  to 
mind  what  Saint  Francis  de  Sales  says,  "Perfection  is 
not  a  robe  entirely  finished  that  one  can  throw  over  the 
shoulders  on  the  first  day."  Vocation  is  the  sweet  and 
dear  labor  which  brings  it  to  completion.  Let  us  every 
day  put  a  stitch  in  this  robe  of  ours,  and  it  will,  in  the 
end,  be  beautifully  embroidered.  Saint  Teresa  tells  us 
also  that  a  person  who  wishes  to  give  herself  to  God  ex- 
periences difficulties  only  while  deliberating  whether 
she  should  or  should  not ;  as  soon  as  she  has  made  up  her 
mind  she  finds  hardly  any  obstacle  in  the  road  of  per- 
fection. Every  day,  my  dear  child,  perform  some  little 
mortifications  or  an  act  of  charity ;  then  decide  on  a  time 
to  consult  either  a  Jesuit  Father  or  Monseigneur  de 


THE  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  311 

Saint  Palais  when  he  passes  through  Saint  Servan, 
Tell  all  that  passes  in  your  soul,  good  and  bad,  and  fol- 
low the  advice  then  given  you.  If  you  are  told  to  re- 
main in  the  world,  remain  there;  to  be  a  religious  in 
France,  obey;  to  come  to  America,  come.  Belong  to 
God,  entirely  to  Him,  wherever  you  can  most  love  Him 
and  cause  Him  most  to  be  loved.  I  have  never  asked 
that  you  might  be  with  me,  but  I  do  ask  unceasingly 
that  you  may  be  called  to  share  my  happy  portion. 

About  the  same  time  she  wrote  to  one  of  her  friends, 
a  lady  whom  she  knew  to  be  opposed  to  religious  voca- 
tions : 

It  is  always  with  pleasure,  dear  madame,  that  I 
hear  news  of  you  through  my  family ;  and  although  they 
tell  me  you  continue  the  role  of  Satan,  this  does  not  pre- 
vent my  loving  you.  The  wicked  one  drove  our  first 
parents  from  the  terrestrial  paradise,  and  you — you 
would  prevent  souls  from  entering  it; — I  assure  you 
that  the  religious  life  is  a  little  paradise.  It  is  true  there 
are  many  forbidden  fruits,  but  when  once  we  have  put 
our  hand  on  the  tree  of  life  we  easily  dispense  with  the 
others.  I  do  not  speak  in  this  way  to  your  sister,  so  do 
not  be  curious,  for  that  would  be  to  impersonate  Mother 
Eve  after  playing  the  part  of  the  serpent.  ...  I  have 
been  informed  of  your  pleasures  this  summer,  and  in  the 
depths  of  my  solitude  I  recalled  the  pleasant  moments 
we  passed  together.  .  .  .  Saint  Jerome,  to  drive  away 
the  remembrance  of  the  pleasures  he  enjoyed  when  in 
Rome,  rolled  himself  on  the  burning  sands  of  the  desert. 
Far  happier  than  he,  I  can  recall  without  remorse  and 
without  trouble,  the  innocent  pleasures  I  enjoyed  among 
my  true  friends  and  in  the  midst  of  my  beloved  family. 
While  thanking  God  for  the  blessed  lot  with  which  He 
has  favored  me,  I  think  often  of  those  whom  I  loved  in 
the  world.  I  try  to  repay  with  prayers  all  they  have 
done  for  me  and  my  dear  mission  of  Vincennes,  which 
are  blended  into  one  in  my  soul. 

To  this  lady's  sister,  whose  virtue  and  piety  seemed 

JMMACULATE  HEART, 
NOVITIATE 


312  THE  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

to  promise  a  more  intimate  union  with  God,  Irma  wrote 
thus: 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  ever  again  see  you  on 
this  earth,  where  we  met  for  a  few  short  hours  only. 
There  are  some  fragrant  flowers  of  which,  if  we  touch 
them  in  passing,  we  shall  long  retain  the  delicious  per- 
fume. Such  you  have  been  for  me.  Yes,  my  dear 
mademoiselle,  there  remains  in  my  mind  a  lasting  im- 
pression of  your  brief  sojourn  at  Saint  Servan,  and  a 
deep  conviction  that  my  soul  was  made  to  understand 
yours.  Surely  it  was  not  in  vain  that  God  put  this 
germ  of  tenderness  into  my  heart.  It  is  sweet  to  me  to 
hope  that  we  shall  meet  in  God.  There  is  no  ocean  for 
souls  to  cross,  or  rather  God  will  be  the  ocean  of  ours. 
Poor  little  rivulets,  we  are  destined  to  flow  through  lands 
far  apart,  but  we  shall  meet  one  day  in  the  bosom  of 
God.  It  is  there  that  waters  which  in  their  passage 
have  not  been  polluted  by  the  slime  of  earth  shall  be 
united  forever. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

DEATH  OF  IRMA'S  FATHER — A  GOOD  FRIEND,  MONSIEUR 
DUPONT,  "THE  HOLY  MAN  OF  TOURS" 

IN  1852  Irma's  family  was  very  painfully  afflicted 
by  the  loss  of  its  chief,  whom  death  carried  off 
from  the  love  of  his  children  and  from  the  esteem 
of  his  numerous  friends.  Although  the  delicate  health 
of  Monsieur  le  Fer  had  accustomed  him  long  before  to 
continual  sufferings,  he  often  expressed  a  fear  of  being 
wanting  in  courage  and  resignation,  if  God  should  send 
him  a  prolonged  illness.  The  malady  which  terminated 
his  life  was  very  painful  and  lasted  two  months ;  yet  his 
patience  never  failed.  One  of  his  daughters  once  re- 
marked: "It  must  be  admitted  that  Our  Lord,  who 
loves  you  more  than  we  do,  has  a  totally  different  man- 
ner of  showing  His  love.  While  we  try  every  possible 
means  of  relieving  you,  He  augments  your  sufferings 
every  day."  "My  daughter,"  he  replied,  "you  seek  to 
procure  for  me  earthly  happiness,  and  God  desires  for 
me  an  eternal  blessedness;  you  love  me  for  earth,  He 
for  heaven." 

On  the  8th  of  April,  Monsieur  le  Fer  de  la  Motte 
ended  in  peace  a  life  that  had  been  faithfully  employed 
in  the  service  of  God  and  of  his  neighbor,  and  in  the  care 
of  bringing  up  his  numerous  family.  Death  had  never 
been  to  him  a  cause  of  fear.  "When  I  think  of  God," 
he  used  to  say,  "He  seems  so  good  that  it  is  impossible 
to  be  afraid."  With  truth,  also,  could  he  pronounce  the 
touching  words  of  Frederick  Ozanam,  "How  shall  I 
fear  Him  whom  I  love  so  much?" 

313 


314.  DEATH  OF  IRMA'S  FATHER 

As  soon  as  Sister  Saint  Francis  heard  of  her  father's 
death,  she  hastened  to  sympathize  with  her  family  in 
their  grief,  a  grief  which  was  also  her  own.  She  wrote : 

May  the  holy  will  of  God  be  done  and  adored! 

My  dearly  beloved  Mother:  God  has  asked  of  us  a 
very  great  sacrifice.  The  favors  He  grants  us  are  often 
paid  for  with  tears.  I  had  hoped  that  He  would  be 
contented  with  the  absence  of  your  dear  children,  but, 
my  mother,  what  is  this  now  but  absence?  We  shall 
soon  see  him  again.  "They  do  not  die  in  your  family; 

they  simply  go  to  heaven,"  said  Sister  X ,  heaving  a 

sigh.  It  is  not  the  same  in  her  own  family. 

How  much  I  have  suffered  on  your  account  since  I 
heard  of  the  seriousness  of  my  poor  father's  illness.  I 
prayed  more  for  you  than  for  him,  for  I  abandoned  him 
to  Our  Lord  in  the  Holy  Eucharist.  Alas!  I  thought 
my  resignation  would  have  touched  this  dear  Jesus,  who 
so  much  loves  our  confidence.  I  offered  father  specially 
on  Holy  Thursday  and  I  spent  nearly  the  whole  of  that 
day  in  our  little  chapel.  There  I  prayed,  I  wept,  I 
loved.  I  read  these  touching  lines  in  the  "Last  Dis- 
course" of  our  Lord :  Because  I  have  said,  I  go,  you  are 
sad.  But  I  will  ask  my  Father,  and  He  will  send  you 
a  Comforter.  .  .  .  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled:  fear 
not.  .  .  . 

Last  evening,  after  experiencing  an  agony  of  grief,  I 
felt  an  inexpressible  joy.  It  seemed  to  me  that  Our 
Lord  permitted  me  to  go  to  see  my  father  for  a  little 
while  in  heaven.  How  happy  I  was !  I  slept  all  night, 
and  this  morning  I  am  able  to  write  to  you.  How  glad 
I  am  that  I  prayed  that  my  father  might  have  his  purga- 
tory on  earth !  I  have  not  asked  this  favor  for  any  one 
else,  not  even  for  myself. 

When  the  sad  news  of  my  father's  death  reached  me, 
the  Sisters  and  I  were  making  a  novena  for  him.  I 
have  found  true  sympathy  in  my  dear  Sisters,  and  the 
heart  of  a  mother  in  Mother  Theodore.  I  even  fear  she 
will  go  too  far  in  asking  public  prayers  for  him.  I  have 


DEATH  OF  IRMA'S  FATHER  315 

told  her  that  my  father  would  blame  her.  (In  com- 
munity you  know  it  is  not  well  to  make  distinctions  so 
marked.)  I  am  sure  you  will  approve  of  my  doing 
this. 

A  few  days  later  she  wrote : 

My  poor  heart  is  so  full  that  I  must  still  speak  of  our 
beloved  absent  one.  Saturday  evening  my  mind  was  so 
disturbed  that  I  hardly  knew  what  I  said  or  felt,  but 
after  my  little  visit  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  I,  like 
you,  felt  a  desire  to  profit  by  our  sorrow  to  advance  in 
virtue.  This  morning  I  asked  myself,  How  did  my 
father  assist  at  Mass?  He  closed  the  eyes  of  his  body 
and  those  of  his  soul  to  all  distractions ;  and  I  did  the 
same.  Then  I  said  to  myself,  the  duties  of  his  state  of 
life  were  his  cherished  duties,  and,  therefore,  I  shall 
go  with  courage  and  give  my  lessons.  I  must  walk 
straight,  now  that  he  sees  all  my  actions.  How  I  shall 
love  to  pray  to  him,  and  to  invoke  him ;  especially  for  my 
brothers ! 

In  a  letter  to  her  sister  Cecile  she  tells  a  beautiful 
thing  about  their  dear  departed : 

Thank  my  mother  for  what  she  wrote  concerning  our 
beloved  father.  I  shall  now  tell  you  something  about 
him.  When  I  returned  from  Lorette  during  my  visit 
to  Saint  Servan,  he  said  to  me,  "It  seemed  to  me  that 
Our  Lord  asked  me  how  many  drops  of  my  blood  I 
would  be  willing  to  give  Him  if  each  would  save  a  soul. 
At  first  I  gave  him  a  few,  then  many;  but  at  last  I 
said  to  him,  'Lord,  take  all,  even  to  the  last  drop.' '  The 
first  drop  of  blood  that  my  father  gave  for  the  salvation 
of  souls  was  when  he  consented  to  my  departure.  Re- 
member, dearest  mother,  he  would  have  given  the  last 
drop,  his  life  itself.  My  beloved  sisters,  my  cherished 
brothers,  let  us  love  God  as  our  saintly  father  loved 
Him ;  let  us  love  Him,  were  it  possible,  even  as  this  good 
God  loves  us. 

To  the  same  sister  she  wrote  again: 


316  AN  ACCIDENT 

.  .  .  The  dreams  of  the  future  are  of  no  more  value 
than  the  memories  of  the  past,  unless  it  is  toward  the 
eternal  regions  that  our  imagination  carries  us.  O  beau- 
tiful abode  of  heaven  1  We  can  think  of  you  without 
illusion,  for  you  are  our  true  country.  To  see  God, 
Cecile! — could  my  father  ever  have  suffered  too  much 
for  such  a  favor  as  this  ?  What  are  a  few  hours  of  dark- 
ness compared  to  that  eternity  of  light  in  which  he  now 
finds  delight?  He  offered  his  sacrifice  to  Jesus  cruci- 
fied. He  suffered  with  Him,  and  our  Savior  has  for 
souls  in  their  agony  consolations  unknown  in  other  cir- 
cumstances of  life.  How  he  would  scold  us — this  dear 
father — if  we  regretted  his  sufferings,  now  forever  past  1 
My  mother  weeps  under  the  trees  that  shade  his  grave, 
and  we  weep  near  the  altar  whereon  our  Savior  dwells. 
On  the  8th  of  April  we  offered  our  Holy  Communion 
for  him,  and  in  the  Heart  of  Jesus  we  found  the  father 
He  had  taken  from  us.  All  the  souls  of  the  Saints  are  in 
Him  as  in  a  tabernacle.  Elvire  and  I  often  say  to  each 
other:  "People  think  they  have  made  a  great  sacrifice 
in  giving  themselves  to  God;  but  what  have  we  left? 
Those  who  will  leave  us,  those  whom  death  and  absence 
daily  take  from  us,  and  whom  we  shall  find  again  in  God 
who  is  eternal.  When  shall  we  be  in  that  beautiful 
country  ubi  neque  luctus,  neque  clamor,  neque  dolor  erit 
ultra? 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Let  us  bless  the  Lord  for  all  His  benefits  1 

June  3,  1852. 

My  so-much-loved  Mother :  "Out  of  the  depths  I  have 
cried  unto  Thee,  O  Lord."  Last  night  Mother  Theo- 
dore and  I  had  just  come  to  this  passage  in  our  Office. 
The  evening  was  calm  and  tranquil,  the  moonbeams 
glittered  through  the  branches  of  the  trees  in  our  forests. 
The  carriage  in  which  we  were  riding  was  crossing 
the  first  bridge  on  the  way  from  Terre  Haute  when  I 
noticed  that  the  horse  was  backing.  I  jumped  out  im- 
mediately and  saw  that  only  a  few  inches  of  plank  sep- 


AN  ACCIDENT  317 

arated  the  wheels  of  the  carriage  from  the  ravine  below. 
"Mother,  Mother!"  I  cried  out,  "jump  out!"  She  tried 
to  do  so  but  it  was  too  late.  In  a  second,  carriage,  horse, 
Mother — all  had  disappeared  down  the  precipice,  and  I 
was  alone  on  the  bridge  crying,  "O  Jesus  in  the  Blessed 
Sacrament,  come,  save  our  Mother!"  I  descended  into 
the  ravine  and  saw  the  horse  on  his  back,  the  carriage 
upside  down,  and  between  the  wheels  and  the  horse's 
feet  our  dear  Mother's  head.  But  she  was  still  alive 
and  asked  me  to  call  for  help.  I  expected  it  only  from 
heaven.  I  had  not  noticed  that  there  was  a  wagon 
about  a  hundred  paces  off.  I  ran,  called,  and  the  young 
man  from  the  wagon  came  at  once,  though  to  me  the 
time  seemed  very  long.  A  single  movement  of  the 
horse  would  have  killed  Mother.  How  I  clasped  her 
in  my  arms  when  she  was  half  out  from  under  the  car- 
riage! She  had  to  show  me  the  danger  I  was  run- 
ning of  getting  between  the  legs  of  the  horse  which  was 
still  on  its  back.  But  how  I  thanked  God,  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  and  Saint  Joseph!  Mother  was  as  composed 
as  if  she  were  coming  from  the  chapel,  and  it  was  not 
until  twenty  minutes  after  that  she  felt  any  emotion. 
When  I  was  calling  for  help  I  offered  Our  Lord  at  least 
one  of  Mother's  limbs;  but  when  the  young  man  had 
raised  the  wheel  up  over  her  head  I  diminished  my  offer- 
ing, and  cried,  "My  God,  my  God,  take  the  horse!" 
But  we  had  no  need  even  of  a  ram  to  redeem  our  dear 
victim ;  the  carriage  alone  and  my  veil  have  paid  for  all. 
Why  and  how  I  jumped  out  upon  the  bridge  I  do  not 
know,  for  I  did  not  foresee  the  danger;  but  I  knew  the 
horse  was  a  vicious  one,  and  that  Mother  feared  nothing 
so  much  as  a  horse  that  backs.  It  was  on  her  account  I 
jumped  out  of  the  carriage,  but  as  I  laughingly  told 
her,  it  was  myself  that  I  saved.  If  both  of  us  had  fallen 
it  is  probable  one  would  have  been  killed,  for  between 
the  wheels  there  was  room  only  for  Mother's  head. 
How  I  thanked  God  for  having  spared  her  the  suffering 
I  endured  on  her  account!  She  would  never  have  be- 
lieved I  could  live  through  it.  You  prayed  for  her  that 
day — it  was  the  first  Friday  of  the  month — and  God 


318  AN  ACCIDENT 

heard  your  desires  and  preserved  for  our  community 
and  to  our  family  a  Mother  and  a  friend.  Will  you  be 
kind  enough  to  have  a  Mass  of  thanksgiving  offered, 
either  at  Lorette  or  Nazareth,  in  remembrance  of  Our 
Lord's  protection? 

You  would  shudder  could  you  but  see  the  spot  where 
this  distressing  yet  consoling  accident  occurred.  I  shall 
not  attempt  to  describe  the  bridge,  which  has  no  para- 
pet, etc.;  but  persons  who  next  day  saw  the  debris  of 
our  carriage  could  not  understand  how  Mother  Theo- 
dore was  not  killed,  after  falling  from  such  a  height. 
Oh!  we  have  in  Jesus  in  the  Tabernacle  a  source  of 
help  of  which  they  know  nothing.  If  in  temptation  I 
should  pray  as  I  did  then,  never  should  I  sin.  What 
confidence  I  had!  Mother  Theodore  told  me  that  when 
the  young  man  came  up  I  exclaimed  in  French,  "Our 
Lord  in  the  blessed  Eucharist  has  saved  Mother !"  I  do 
not  know  what  I  said.  It  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock  at 
night  when  we  arrived  at  Providence  [the  Convent]. 
Mother  is  still  much  bruised  from  the  fall.  I  myself 
was  a  little  hurt  in  jumping,  but  that  is  nothing,  and  to 
prove  my  gratitude  to  God  I  am  going  to  try  to  be  very 
good  and  not  lose  one  moment  of  time.  Yesterday 
morning  I  had  said  Madame  Elizabeth's  prayer,  "O  my 
God,  I  know  not  what  will  happen  to  me  to-day,  etc.," 
and  I  have  said  it  since  in  union  with  you,  my  beloved 
mother.  We  never  know  what  happens  at  a  distance. 
Sometimes  while  you  shed  tears  I  am  laughing,  and 
when  you  are  laughing,  I  am  weeping;  but,  tears  or 
joys,  let  all  be  for  our  Divine  Savior.  To-day,  the  feast 
of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  I  have  prayed  for  all  of  you, 
for  it  is  a  day  to  ask  all  and  to  receive  all. 

I  am  glad  to  know  that  Eugene  intends  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Society  of  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul.  I  made  a 
novena  for  this  dear  brother  during  the  month  of 
May. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  kept  up  a  correspondence  with 
Monsieur  Dupont  of  Tours.  Her  letters,  unfortu- 
nately, have  not  been  recovered,  but  we  think  it  will  be 


THE  "HOLY  MAN  OF  TOURS"  319 

a  pleasure  to  our  readers  to  peruse  a  letter  from  him, 
so  faithful  a  friend  of  Saint  Mary-of- the- Woods.  He 
was  the  first  one  to  give  an  alms  to  Sister  Saint  Francis 
for  her  mission  of  Vincennes.  This  donation,  which  so 
rejoiced  and  touched  the  heart  of  the  young  missionary 
religious,  was  but  the  beginning  of  the  alms  of  every 
kind  that  the  "Holy  Man  of  Tours"  was  later  to  bestow 
upon  his  humble  protegees. 

Tours,  September  7, 1852. 

My  dear  Sister:  The  bell  for  the  first  Vespers  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin's  Nativity  is  ringing  as  I  begin  this  let- 
ter. So  then,  Five  Marie!  If  loving  hearts  in  former 
ages  used  this  salutation,  how  much  more  should  we 
raise  our  voices  to  sing  the  praises  and  to  recount  the 
benefits  of  our  good  Mother !  She  has  done  so  much  for 
us !  Does  she  not  multiply  her  acts  of  kindness  in  order 
to  gain  hearts?  How  much,  then,  are  they  to  be  pitied 
who,  like  children  badly  brought  up,  refuse  her  maternal 
care! 

To-night  at  the  nocturnal  adoration  we  shall  talk 
about  Mary  so  as  to  dispose  ourselves  to  render  true 
homage  to  her  Divine  Son  exposed  in  the  Sacrament  of 
His  love.  During  the  entire  night  the  adorers,  before 
going  to  the  chapel,  will  prostrate  themselves  at  the  feet 
of  Our  Lady  to  ask  the  grace  of  acquitting  themselves 
worthily  of  their  pious  duties.  They  are  engaged,  as 
you  know,  in  the  work  of  reparation  for  the  outrages 
committed  against  our  Savior  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament. 
Mass  is  said  at  four  o'clock.  The  Gospel  will  conduct 
us  to  the  cradle  of  the  daughter  of  Anne  and  Joachim. 
The  angels  of  the  new  covenant,  at  the  first  cry  of  this 
daughter  of  David,  took  their  way  to  Nazareth.  Was 
it  not  meet  they  should  hasten  to  salute  her  who  was 
soon  to  be  their  queen?  Did  they  not,  near  her  cradle, 
prelude  the  concerts  of  Bethlehem?  It  is  true  it  is  not 
said  they  did,  but  all  the  mysteries  of  this  joyful  feast 
are  not  known.  According  to  the  Gospel,  Mary  kept 
all  these  things  in  her  heart,  and  we  may  well  believe 


320  THE  "HOLY  MAN  OF  TOURS" 

that  Joachim  and  Anne  did  not  reveal  all  that  happened 
at  the  birth  of  this  holy  child,  this  Immaculate  One, 
whom  they  received  into  their  blessed  hands. 

You  will  find  in  the  packet  sent  you  by  your  dear 
cousin,  Mademoiselle  de  la  Valette,  some  water  of  La 
Salette  and  also  a  small  vial  of  oil  from  the  lamp  which 
since  Ash  Wednesday,  1851,  has  constantly  burned  be- 
fore the  Holy  Face.  As  time  forbids  me,  Mademoiselle 
Henriette  will  give  you  some  details  on  this  subject. 

Our  Lord  always  multiplying  His  mercies,  even  over- 
whelms old  Europe,  culpable  as  it  is,  with  His  benefits. 
There  is  strong  evidence  that  the  triumph  of  the  Church 
will  not  be  delayed.  It  is  impossible  that  the  present 
deluge  of  graces  should  not  revive  at  least  as  many  men 
as  there  were  criminals  destroyed  by  the  waters  of  the 
deluge  in  the  time  of  Noah.  In  Our  Lord,  and  at  the 
feet  of  the  infant  Mary,  believe  me,  my  dear  Sister, 
Your  very  devoted  servant, 

DUPONT. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

VOCATION   OF   MADEMOISELLE  ELVIRE   LE  FEE  DE 
LA   MOTTE 

LIKE  many  other  religious,  Sister  Saint  Francis 
might,  perhaps,  be  reproached  for  wishing  to 
draw  young  persons  to  embrace  the  same  kind 
of  life  which  she  herself  had  chosen.  Without  pretend- 
ing to  excuse  her,  it  can  yet  be  said  that  her  desire  of 
procuring  the  glory  of  God  made  her  wish  to  see  in- 
creased the  number  of  workmen  capable  of  reaping  the 
rich  harvest  extending  around  her.  Then,  too,  gener- 
ous souls  cannot  possess  a  treasure  without  wishing  to 
share  it  with  others,  and  Irma  was  so  happy  in  her  voca- 
tion that  she  wished  to  procure  the  same  felicity  for 
those  she  loved.  If  God  had  given,  her  sisters  Cecile 
and  Clementine  an  attraction  to  the  religious  life,  He 
would  certainly  have  granted  one  of  her  most  ardent 
desires;  but  she  would  never  have  thought  of  drawing 
them  to  America,  contrary  to  the  designs  of  God.  She 
often  spoke  to  her  family  of  the  necessity  of  increasing 
the  number  of  missionary  Sisters.  Once  she  wrote: 

Although  new  establishments  are  continually  offered 
to  us,  we  are  obliged  to  refuse  them.  This  goes  right 
to  my  heart.  We  all  have  at  least  one-third  more  work 
than  time.  When  I  see  in  spirit  so  many  persons  in 
France  occupied  with  mere  trifles,  and  when  I  recall  the 
years  I  passed  in  the  same  way,  I  sigh  deeply.  Pray 
that  the  good  God  will  send  us  subjects  chosen  by  Him- 
self and  suitable  for  His  work,  because  the  harvest  is 
ripe  and  only  needs  laborers.  The  Bishop  of  New  Or- 

321 


322  HAPPINESS  IN  THE  CLOISTER 

leans  has  asked  us  to  establish  houses  in  two  cities  of 
his  diocese,  but  we  have  not  subjects  enough  to  supply 
the  wants  even  of  Indiana. 

The  development  of  the  West  is  also  mentioned  again, 
together  with  some  little  domestic  events  that  seemed  so 
wonderful  to  a  foreigner. 

Emigration  is  increasing  rapidly.  Hundreds  of  Irish 
and  Germans  arrive  almost  daily.  We  are  asked  for 
on  all  sides.  If  we  to-day  had  sixty  more  Sisters 
to-morrow  they  would  all  be  employed.  At  our  Acad- 
emy we  have  eighty-four  pupils.  We  had  difficulty  in 
supplying  them  with  beds.  Our  forty-eight  sheep  have 
been  sheared,  and  the  Sisters  are  now  picking  geese. 
There  are  many  inventions  in  a  new  country. 

All  the  letters  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  are 
filled  with  the  expression  of  her  happiness  and  with 
sentiments  of  gratitude.  "My  time  is  well  taken  up," 
she  wrote  to  her  mother;  "and,  though  I  do  not  do  great 
things,  I  am  never  idle.  I  fear  sometimes  my  happi- 
ness is  too  great  for  a  religious.  How  truly  verified  are 
Our  Lord's  words  promising  a  hundredfold  in  this 
world  to  those  who  leave  all  to  follow  Him!  When  I 
obeyed  His  call  I  hardly  thought  of  this  hundredfold, 
which  seemed  impossible;  but  He  who  is  all  love  is  also 
all  power.  There  are  secrets  for  the  soul  which  can  be 
known  only  when  tasted.  He  is  for  your  child  a 
brother,  a  friend,  a  country.  Shall  I  say  more?  He  is 
a  mother,  yes,  a  mother  most  tender." 

To  cite  the  passages  in  which  Irma  speaks  of  her 
happiness  would  be  to  multiply  them  beyond  the  limits 
of  this  work.  So  frequently  do  they  recur  that  we  are 
obliged  rather  to  omit  them.  If  Sister  Saint  Francis 
Xavier  desired  earnestly  to  see  the  number  of  the  Sis- 
ters increased,  still  nothing  alarmed  her  more  than  the 


CARE  IN  CHOOSING  SUBJECTS  323 

thought    of    admitting   at    Saint    Mary-of-the-Woods 
young  girls  who  did  not  have  a  true  vocation. 
To  her  sister  Eugenie  she  wrote: 

We  are  greatly  in  need  of  subjects,  but  we  want  those 
that  are  solid.  Ask  Saint  Joseph  to  obtain  for  us  this 
favor ,  that  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais  will  not  bring  us  any 
who  have  not  a  real  vocation.  I  fear  he  will  meet  with 
young  persons  of  enthusiastic  temperament  who,  though 
not  truly  called,  would  nevertheless  like  to  come.  I 
hope  God  will  preserve  us  from  such  a  misfortune;  but 
we  are  running  a  risk.  You  must  not  think  my  opinion 
about  admitting  the  poor  among  us  has  changed.  Far 
from  it;  I  have  never  hesitated  to  give  my  vote  for  a 
virtuous  person,  though  she  had  neither  a  cent  nor  a 
stitch  of  her  own.  But  we  have  discovered  so  many  false 
vocations,  so  many  prompted  by  convenience  or  neces- 
sity, that  we  are  more  cautious  now,  particularly  in  the 
case  of  persons  from  a  distant  country  who  have  not  the 
means  of  returning. 

To  her  sister  Pepa,  whom  she  loved  very  tenderly, 
and  who  expressed  at  times  the  desire  of  giving  herself 
to  God,  she  wrote: 

I  do  not  remember  telling  you  that  the  desire  alone 
suffices.  If  that  were  so,  you  would  have  an  excellent 
vocation;  but  I  have  never  thought  you  were  called  to 
the  religious  life.  Not  only  do  we  desire  subjects  hav- 
ing a  good  vocation,  but  we  consider  it  necessary  that 
that  vocation  be  proved  by  good  works. 

She  wrote  again  to  the  same  sister,  speaking  of  one 
of  her  friends,  who  was  a  religious: 

Often  I  dream  of  seeing  X back  among  her 

family,  and  I  say  to  her :  "How  can  you  remain  so  long 
away  from  your  community?"  She  replies:  "And  who 
gave  you  permission,  Irma,  to  leave  yours?"  I  look  at 
myself,  and,  seeing  that  I  am  dressed  as  a  secular,  I  give 


324  ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

a  scream  of  despair.  These  are  my  bad  dreams,  or,  as 
uncle  calls  them,  my  good  dreams,  because  when  I 
awake  I  rejoice  to  find  them  unreal.  Sometimes  also 
I  dream  that  you,  too,  wear  the  religious  Habit,  but  I 
tell  you  in  confidence  I  feel  ashamed  of  your  worldly 
manner;  and  when  morning  comes  I  am  glad  to  know 
you  are  at  home.  Yes,  my  dear  Pepa,  you  will  be  the 
Philothea  of  Saint  Francis  de  Sales.  You  can  be  as 
perfect  in  the  world  as  many  religious  are  in  the  cloister. 
You  will  take  care  of  our  beloved  parents  in  their  old 
age,  and  you  will  gladden  the  family  in  the  afflictions 
God  will  send  them;  for  we  must  know  that  crosses 
await  us,  and  these  dear  crosses  must  be  received  lov- 
ingly. 

The  designs  of  God  are  not  those  of  man.  The 
Divine  Master  inspired  neither  Cecile  nor  Clementine 
with  the  idea  of  giving  herself  to  Him,  but  He  chose 
for  Himself  the  fifth  daughter  of  Monsieur  and  Madame 
le  Fer,  Elvire,  of  whom  Sister  Saint  Francis  had  never 
thought.  Elvire  was  then  twenty-six  years  of  age.  As 
lovable,  as  brilliant  and  graceful  as  her  sister  Irma,  she 
had  much  more  ability  for  government  and  greater 
aptitude  for  the  various  feminine  accomplishments 
which  hold  a  place  of  importance  in  a  boarding  school 
for  young  women.  For  many  years  she  had  thought 
of  consecrating  herself  to  God,  but  she  was  undecided 
as  to  the  religious  congregation  she  should  enter, 
though  she  was  inclined  to  the  Little  Sisters  of  the 
Poor.  She  made  known  her  intention  to  Sister  Saint 
Francis  in  1851,  and  thenceforward,  while  still  forming 
a  part  of  the  family  circle,  applied  herself  to  the  prac- 
tice of  the  virtues  which  make  the  true  religious. 

Irma  responded  to  these  overtures  of  vocation  in  her 
own  disinterested  way: 

After  Communion  [she  says]  when  in  silence  before 
Jesus,  ask  Him  to  make  known  what  He  wills  you  to 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  325 

do ;  and  if  He  asks  the  sacrifice  of  all  that  you  love,  tell 
Him  to  take  your  heart,  if  you  have  not  the  courage  to 
give  it  to  Him. 

I  should  be  very  sorry  if  you  thought  of  coming  to 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods  on  my  account.  If  God 
calls  you  to  the  holy  vocation  of  the  missions,  you  will 
find  in  Mother  Theodore  a  guide  and  a  sincere  friend; 
but  neither  for  her  nor  for  me  should  you  make  such  a 
sacrifice.  Never  for  one  moment  have  I  repented  leav- 
ing France,  but  I  left  it  for  God,  and  I  have  found  in 
this  far-off  land,  the  good  Savior  who  called  me. 

It  was  only  after  long  reflection,  fervent  prayers, 
and  consultations  with  her  director,  Abbe  Collet,  vicar 
of  Saint  Servan,  that  Elvire  decided  to  go  to  America. 
The  desire  of  being  with  her  sister  and  Mother  Theodore 
entered  but  slightly  into  her  determination.  But  seeing 
that  in  France,  even  in  the  world,  there  were  many 
generous  and  devoted  women  who  consecrated  a  portion 
of  their  time  to  good  works,  while  in  Indiana  the  re- 
ligious alone  took  care  of  the  poor,  gave  religious  in- 
struction to  the  children,  etc.,  she  concluded  that  in 
Indiana  her  life  would  be  more  usefully  employed  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls.  Not  to  grieve 
her  family  in  advance,  she  did  not  disclose  her  project 
until  the  time  arrived  for  its  execution. 

It  was  just  at  this  time,  and  before  she  had  made 
known  her  intention,  that  the  death  of  Monsieur  le  Fer 
occurred.  Elvire,  in  mourning  over  her  good  father, 
rejoiced  that  she  had  not  afflicted  him  by  the  announce- 
ment of  her  approaching  departure.  She  was  uncertain, 
though,  whether  at  the  moment  when  God  was  sending 
her  mother  so  deep  a  sorrow,  she  ought,  instead  of  com- 
forting her,  to  impose  a  new  sacrifice  by  asking  permis- 
sion to  leave  her  forever.  She  might,  perhaps,  have 
delayed,  had  not  God  sent  to  France  Bishop  de  Saint 


326  ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

Palais.  The  interests  of  his  mission  called  him  to  Brit- 
tany; he  wished  also  to  see  the  family  of  Sister  Saint 
Francis  Xavier.  Elvire  profited  by  the  few  days  he 
spent  at  her  mother's  to  make  known  to  him  her  desire 
of  consecrating  herself  to  God  in  the  work  of  the  mis- 
sions. It  was  agreed  that,  if  Madame  le  Fer  consented, 
she  would  in  September  meet  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais  at 
Rennes,  in  6*rder  to  make  the  journey  under  his  pro- 
tection. 

In  the  meantime  Irma  wrote  to  Abbe  Collet,  Elvire's 
director: 

God  has  asked  a  great  sacrifice  of  us.  No  doubt  our 
beloved  father  is  thanking  God  for  the  honor  He  con- 
fers on  His  daughter  in  choosing  her  for  His  spouse. 
But  I  must  raise  my  thoughts  above  human  prudence 
to  adore  and  bless,  without  comprehending,  the  ways  of 
our  Divine  Master.  He  will  not  permit  the  death  of  my 
father  to  retard  or  in  any  manner  prevent  Elvire's  sacri- 
fice. By  means  of  grief  He  Himself  prepares  the  heart 
He  already  possesses;  my  mother  may  weep,  but  she 
will  not  hesitate.  Would  that  I  could  take  to  myself 
all  the  bitterness  of  this  separation ! 

Bishop  de  Saint  Palais  will  soon  be  at  Saint  Servan. 
He  already  has  some  young  persons  at  Ruille  destined 
for  the  missions.  We  think  it  better  for  Elvire  to  re- 
main with  my  mother  until  the  time  of  his  Lordship's  de- 
parture for  America.  It  seems  to  me  God  will  not  be 
displeased  at  her  remaining  with  her  afflicted  family  as 
long  as  possible.  At  home  she  can  learn  different  styles 
of  painting  and  other  kinds  of  work  which  will  be  very 
useful  here ;  and  she  can  there  learn  especially  how  God 
is  served,  how  His  holy  will  is  blessed  in  the  midst  of  the 
sharpest  trials.  Our  lonely  forests  will  one  day  be  in- 
habited by  families  to  whom  she  will  have  taught  the 
name  of  Jesus.  She  will  make  the  Divine  Master 
known  and  loved  in  a  diocese  which  has  for  its  patron 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  327 

one  of  the  most  zealous  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  the 
great  Saint  Xavier,  who  gained  for  God  fifty-two  king- 
doms and  baptized  thousands  of  infidels.  Though  we 
have  not  his  arm,  this  is  at  the  Gesu  at  Rome,  we  have 
a  fine  painting  which  represents  him  with  the  cross  he 
so  much  loved.  She  will  pray  to  him  for  you,  for  he  is 
also  your  holy  patron,  and,  besides,  it  seems  to  me  that 
you  are  the  friend,  not  only  of  all  my  family,  but  also  of 
our  entire  community. 

It  is  impossible  to  express  in  words  my  gratitude  to 
you.  You  have  given  me  a  Sister,  you  have  given  Jesus 
a  dearly-loved  spouse.  You  kept  her  for  Him,  even 
when  she  almost  feared  to  belong  to  Him.  Ohl  how  I 
thank  you  for  thus  guarding  her  heart  for  our  Divine 
Savior!  I  join  you  together  in  my  thoughts,  because 
it  was  you  who  made  the  scales  fall  from  the  eyes  of  her 
who  had  said  with  all  her  heart,  yet  with  a  trembling 
voice,  "Lord,  what  will  you  have  me  to  do?" 

Madame  le  Fer  showed  no  less  generosity  in  parting 
with  this  second  daughter  than  she  had  manifested  when 
offering  her  first  to  the  missions.  It  is  true  that  at  the 
moment  when  God  took  from  her  the  dearest  object  of 
her  affections,  she  naturally  wished  to  keep  near  her  all 
her  children,  in  order  that  they  might,  as  far  as  possible, 
fill  the  void  left  by  the  loss  of  her  husband ;  and,  too,  she 
wanted  to  keep  Elvire  at  least  one  year  longer.  But 
her  daughter's  health  had  already  suffered  much  on  ac- 
count of  the  conflicts  she  had  sustained  while  forming 
the  resolution  of  leaving  her  native  land  and  her  family ; 
and  now  to  defer  her  departure  would  mean  only  a  pro- 
longing of  Elvire's  anguish.  Moreover,  the  advantage 
of  making  the  voyage  with  the  Bishop  of  Vincennes 
would  not  be  offered  again  a  year  later.  Madame  le 
Fer  de  la  Motte,  therefore,  resigned  herself  to  make  at 
once  the  sacrifice  God  asked  of  her,  a  sacrifice  of  which 
He  only  could  measure  the  extent;  because  Elvire,  by 


328  ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

her  sweet  disposition  and  her  constant  devotedness,  had 
in  some  sort  replaced,  without  causing  to  be  forgotten, 
that  other  daughter  exiled,  yet  always  dear  to  her  heart. 
To  her  sister  Eugenie,  Irma  wrote: 

At  last  I  have  told  the  good  tidings  to  our  community. 
Tears  of  joy  were  shed,  and  postulants  and  novices 
clapped  their  hands  with  delight.  All,  I  am  sure,  will 
love  Elvire,  my  dear  Elvire.  I  was  greatly  pleased 
with  her  letter.  Prayers  and  sighs  ascend  here  daily  to 
heaven;  and  God  who  is  so  good,  will  certainly  make  my 
mother  consent  to  her  departure.  Good  Abbe  Car- 
donnet  often  used  to  tell  me  that  God  turns  as  He  will 
the  hearts  of  men.  Oh,  let  us  have  confidence !  .  .  . 

In  her  next  letter  Irma  describes  their  concern  at 
Saint  Mary's  regarding  their  prospective  postulant: 

I  have  told  Elvire  the  fright  she  gave  Mother  Theo- 
dore. On  opening  her  letter  Mother's  eyes  fell  on  the 
word  "cloister."  Without  reading  further,  she  entered 
my  room  in  great  consternation  and  said,  "Elvire  tells 
me  she  is  going  to  enter  a  cloistered  community.  What 
do  you  think  of  that,  Sister  Saint  Francis?  You  make 
no  reply?"  "Our  Lord  knows  what  is  best  for  her,"  I 
said;  "I  have  confided  Elvire  to  Him."  The  blow 
would  have  been  severe  for  me,  but  I  believe  it  would 
have  been  more  painful  for  Mother  Theodore.  O  my 
beloved  Eugenie,  think  of  the  good  that  Elvire  will  do 
here;  and  then  to  belong  to  Jesus,  to  Him  only!  Oh, 
how  sweet  it  is!  Many  times  I  have  desired  to  write 
her  these  words  of  the  Sacred  Scripture:  Forget  thy 
people  and  thy  father's  house,  and  the  King  shall  greatly 
desire  thy  beauty;  but,  fearing  to  influence  her,  I  aban- 
doned all  to  Jesus. 

To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

August,  1852. 

Will  Elvire  be  with  you  when  you  receive  this  letter? 
Poor  child,  how  often  I  have  thought  of  you  both.  We 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  329 

have  learned  that  Monseigneur  is  to  be  in  Vincennes  on 
October  sixth.  To  be  sure  of  arriving  on  that  day  he 
would  have  to  take  a  steamboat,  and  if  he  does  that, 
this  little  letter  may  arrive  before  he  starts.  I  have 
prayed  much  for  our  beloved  mother.  I  feel  sure  God 
has  given  her  the  courage  to  make  her  sacrifice  and  that 
she  has  even  been  consoled  in  making  it.  I  share  the 
opinion  of  the  little  doctor,  "Sweet  and  bitter  is  the  cup 
prepared  by  Our  Lord."  Ah!  cherished  mother,  re- 
joice that  your  name  is  written,  is  graven  in  heaven. 
Yes,  your  sufferings  yet  more  than  your  virtues  assure 
me  of  your  salvation.  And  you,  beloved  Cecile,  take 
courage,  courage  to  see  tears  flowing,  courage  to  live 
far  from  the  roof  of  the  old  home.  Remember  Sarah, 
the  wife  of  the  young  Tobias,  and  Rebecca;  they,  too, 
suffered  at  leaving  their  parents.  Dear  Pepa,  I  wish 
I  could  embrace  you,  smile  at  you,  tell  you  with  all  my 
heart  how  pleased  I  am  with  your  courage,  for  I  am 
sure  that  you  have  acted  bravely.  I  shall  write  to  dear 
Frederic,  so  truly  his  father's  son  and  who  surfers  so 
much  at  being  separated  from  you.  And  you,  my 
Clementine,  child  of  my  soul,  are  you  perfectly  re- 
signed? You  know  I  never  forget  you. 

My  most  dear  ones  at  Lorette,  aunts  and  cousins, 
encourage  my  mother,  or  rather  pray  for  her  that  she 
may  persevere  in  the  way  in  which  Our  Lord  is  making 
her  walk,  I  had  almost  said,  fly.  You,  too,  have  your 
own  great  share  in  Elvire's  sacrifice ;  you  will  share,  too, 
in  her  labors.  Dear  brothers,  you  especially  my  Paul, 
imitate  the  example  of  so  many  virtues,  and  say  with  a 
good  heart,  "O  my  God,  may  Your  Will  be  done!" 
Good-by,  my  Eugenie.  All  yours  in  Him  who  afflicts 
and  consoles. 

Irma,  supposing  her  sister  on  the  way  to  America, 
offers  her  mother  the  most  powerful  religious  consola- 
tion to  strengthen  her  sorely-tried  soul: 


330  ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

To  HER  MOTHER 

September  14,  1852. 

My  beloved  and  afflicted  Mother :  I  should  like  to  tell 
you  all  that  I  felt  in  reading  your  letter,  but  for  that 
my  heart  would  have  to  take  the  place  of  my  hand.  I 
have  thought  of  all  your  grief,  and  I  have  shuddered  in 
thinking  of  it.  Though  I  should  wish  to  have  borne  it 
all  for  you,  yet  I  am  to  rejoice  while  you  are  in  tears. 
This  thought  simply  overwhelms  me.  I  would  prefer 
a  thousand  times  to  be  without  consolation  than  to  de- 
prive you  of  it;  I  would  even  give  you  what  comfort 
God  gives  me ;  but  no,  I  must  be  the  cause  of  your  suf- 
ferings. Yet  I  know  you  will  rejoice  at  our  joy,  for 
you  are  no  less  generous  than  your  daughters. 

It  is  a  source  of  comfort  to  you,  I  know,  that  my 
father,  with  his  enfeebled  health  and  sensitive  heart,  did 
not  have  to  make  this  sacrifice.  But  now  he  is  happy 
over  the  choice  which  would  afflict  him  sorely,  were  he 
still  on  earth.  He  deems  Elvire  most  fortunate  in  be- 
ing called  to  follow  Our  Lord.  Our  dear  father  sees 
all  the  beauty,  the  riches,  the  lovableness  of  Jesus.  He, 
dear  mother,  sees  holy  religious  surrounded  by  the 
children  they  have  instructed  and  to  whom  they  owe 
their  crown.  He  sees  these  dear  religious  looking  at 
their  mothers  with  love  and  gratitude,  for  they  owe  their 
unspeakable  glory  to  their  virtuous  parents,  who  taught 
them  to  know  God  and  later  consented  to  their  depar- 
ture. Like  Mary,  the  Mother  of  Sorrows,  they  have 
joined  their  sacrifice  to  that  of  their  children.  Oh!  the 
tears  of  mothers  are  the  precious  seeds  which  engender 
souls  for  God.  They  are  as  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  in 
forming  Christians.  I  can  hardly  speak  to  you  of  any 
other  subject.  I  see  so  many  graces  attached  to  your 
sacrifice,  so  many  favors  for  my  brothers,  so  many 
children  and  young  girls  who  in  our  Indiana  will  owe 
their  salvation  to  your  sorrows.  O  my  happy  mother! 
What  have  you  done,  what  have  we  done,  that  God 
should  associate  us  with  Himself  in  the  work  of  the  re- 
demption of  the  world? 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  331 

How  does  Cecile  behave?  I  fear  she  is  wanting  in 
courage.  I  love  my  new  brother.  I  embrace  him,  and 
his  dear  little  wife,  our  charming  Natalia.  Assure  her 
that  our  bishop  is  perfectly  guiltless  of  Elvire's  depar- 
ture. God  has  done  it  all. 

Our  little  boys  have  knit  you  a  pair  of  stockings,  and 
they  pray  with  all  their  hearts  for  their  grandmother. 


CHAPTER  XV 

ELVIRE'S  ARRIVAL  AT  SAINT  MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 

TOWARDS  the  end  of  September,  1852,  Made- 
moiselle Elvire  le  Fer,  and  several  other  young 
ladies  destined  for  the  missions,  embarked  at 
Havre  with  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais.  Her  courage 
equaled  her  sister's,  perhaps  surpassed  it;  for,  unlike 
Irma,  she  was  not  endowed  with  an  active  imagination 
which  embellishes  every  sacrifice  and  clothes  the  future 
in  radiant  tints.  Besides,  her  call  to  the  religious  life 
had  not  encountered  the  contradictions  which  had  been 
so  great  an  impetus  to  Irma's  vocation.  The  greatest 
grief  for  Sister  Saint  Francis  would  have  been  not  to  go 
to  Vincennes;  Elvire's  sacrifice  was  doubled  by  regret 
at  leaving  France.  The  evil  spirit,  too,  who  never  loses 
an  occasion  of  tempting  us,  and  who  thus  often  gives  us 
the  means  of  enriching  ourselves,  tried  everything  at 
Havre  to  inspire  Elvire  with  fear  of  her  new  destination 
and  to  present  the  future  under  the  darkest  colors.  She 
herself  declared  that  she  blessed  the  seasickness  which 
rendered  her  oblivious  of  the  sadness  and  anguish  that 
tortured  her  and  deprived  her  of  the  faculty  of  thinking. 
By  the  time  the  winds  were  appeased  and  the  boat  had 
resumed  a  tranquil  course,  Elvire  had  recovered  that 
profound  calm  and  happiness  which  results  from  a  sacri- 
fice accomplished,  and  especially  from  a  vocation  fol- 
lowed. Fourteen  years  afterwards,  1866,  when  she 
returned  to  France  to  regulate  with  Mother  Mary  at 
Ruille  some  affairs  concerning  their  house  in  Indiana, 
she  spent  several  months  there  and  passed  some  time  also 

332 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  333 

with  her  family.  One  day  her  aged  mother,  who  was 
very  ill  at  that  time,  said  to  her:  "My  child,  no  doubt 
you  have  become  attached  to  France  again,  and  you  will 
feel  a  new  rending  of  the  heart  in  returning  to  your 
exile."  "My  dear  mother,"  she  answered  firmly,  "I  will 
speak  frankly,  having  no  fear  that  my  response  will  pain 
you,  my  heart  is  all  beyond  the  sea.  I  rejoice  at  the 
thought  of  seeing  again  my  community,  Indiana,  my 
Sisters,  and  my  novices.1  My  mind  is  unceasingly  oc- 
cupied with  their  interests,  and  were  I  now  to  remain  in 
France  I  should  be  a  true  eacile"  Sister  Saint  Francis 
related  that  she  herself  had  assisted  at  her  own  departure 
for  America  as  though  it  were  the  leave-taking  of  an- 
other, and  we  insert  here  a  page  omitted  earlier  in  this 
narrative: 

To  MADAME  LE  FEE 

You  must  know,  my  dear  mother,  that  it  is  not  I  that 
have  left  you,  that  have  broken  ties  stronger  than  life. 
Never  should  I  have  been  able  to  leave  you  and,  be- 
cause I  could  not  do  it,  God  has  done  it  for  me.  I  was 
merely  a  spectator  of  these  marvels,  and  I  am  lost  in 
wonder  at  the  power  of  God,  for  my  soul  experienced 
the  same  effects  the  martyrs  discovered  in  their  bodies: 
the  sensation  of  suffering  was  taken  away.  I  did  not 
dare  to  say  it  to  you,  for  I  feared  you  would  think  me 
indifferent.  But  God,  who  wished  to  let  me  know  that 
this  grace  came  from  Him,  left  me  to  my  weakness  when 
I  parted  from  Charles.  The  truth  is,  that  a  few  hours 
earlier  I  had  had  some  thoughts  of  presumption  on  ac- 
count of  my  courage,  and  I  deserved  chastisement. 
God  left  me  also  to  my  grief  when  I  quitted  Brest, 
where  I  had  few  acquaintances,  though  He  enabled  me 
to  leave  Ruille  without  shedding  a  tear,  in  spite  of  my 
tender  love  for  our  superiors  there.  You  and  many 
others  have  given  me  credit  for  courage  that  came  from 

i  Sister  Mary  Joseph  le  Per  de  la  Motte  succeeded  Irma  as  Mistress  of 
Novices. 


334  ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

God  alone.  I  am  naturally  the  most  miserable  of  be- 
ings; the  good  God  knows  it,  and  it  is  for  this  reason 
that  He  takes  so  much  care  of  me,  because  He  did  not 
come  for  souls  that  are  strong. 

These  words  addressed  to  a  mother  are  significant, 
and  it  may  easily  be  concluded  that  Irma's  departure 
was  accomplished  with  supernatural  joy. 

The  succeeding  letters  relate  the  arrival  of  Elvire  at 
Saint  Mary-of- the- Woods,  and  the  joy  of  Irma  and  of 
the  postulants  and  Sisters  at  seeing  her  among  them. 
Irma  tries  to  console  her  poor  mother  with  all  the  in- 
genuity that  filial  tenderness  can  suggest.  Let  us  listen 
to  her  and  we  shall  learn  what  a  loving  heart  can  invent 
and  write: 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  Indiana, 

October  19,  1852. 

To-morrow! — O  my  mother!  thank  God  with  me.  Is 
it  too  much  to  ask  of  you?  No,  you  will  have  courage 
enough  to  thank  our  good  God  for  having  led  Elvire 
here.  To-morrow,  yes,  to-morrow  evening,  this  dear 
child  will  be  with  me.  I  could  hardly  sleep  last  night, 
so  occupied  was  my  heart  with  the  thought  of  her.  I 
said  to  myself,  With  what  impatience  must  not  the  saints 
and  angels  wait  for  us!  I  thought  of  my  father,  who 
knew  so  well  the  dangers  that  surround  us;  how  happy 
he  will  be  when  we  reach  the  port !  Never  before  have 
I  so  well  understood  the  joy  of  the  saints  at  the  arrival 
of  the  blessed  in  heaven.  I  seem  to  be  about  to  intro- 
duce Elvire  into  the  house  of  God,  into  the  company  of 
the  elect.  Ah !  my  mother,  I  am  so  happy  to-day,  and 
yet  we  are  only  in  the  portico  of  the  house  of  the  Lord ; 
we  have  not  entered  into  that  sanctuary  which  was  not 
built  by  the  hand  of  man;  we  can  yet  be  lost!  But  he, 
our  cherished  father,  is  in  heaven,  and  he  has  found  his 
mother  and  all  those  whom  he  loved.  The  more  I  think 
about  my  father,  the  more  my  soul  is  filled  with  grati- 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  335 

tilde,  I  should  even  say,  with  happiness.  His  presence 
has  increased  the  joy  of  those  who  preceded  him,  for 
their  felicity  can  receive  an  increase.  I  say  to  myself, 
Elvire  was  not  necessary  for  my  happiness,  yet  she 
augments  it ;  thus  we  shall  do  for  our  friends  in  heaven. 

Yes,  my  mother,  let  us  raise  our  eyes  to  heaven,  our 
home  for  eternity.  During  our  exile  our  home  is  the 
tabernacle,  the  house  of  our  Father,  our  Brother,  our 
Spouse.  Oh !  how  I  prayed  for  you  during  our  retreat , 
how  I  asked  Jesus  for  His  love!  With  that  we  have 
all.  I  have  never  once  asked  that  you  would  not  go  to 
purgatory,  because  my  weakness  rather  than  yours 
makes  me  apprehend  sufferings  for  you.  But  what  are 
a  few  hours'  absence  on  earth  compared  with  absence 
from  God?  And  in  purgatory  we  shall  be  separated 
from  Him.  I  am  ashamed,  indeed,  of  my  want  of 
courage. 

When  I  received  a  telegram  on  the  eleventh  an- 
nouncing the  arrival  of  the  ship  in  New  York,  I  was 
overjoyed.  As  we  were  saying  Vespers  I  continued  to 
the  end,  and  then  in  a  voice  trembling  with  emotion  I 
said  aloud,  "Let  us  recite  a  Pater  and  Ave  to  thank  God 
for  the  arrival  of  our  bishop  in  New  York."  The  re- 
sponse to  the  prayers  revealed  a  feeling  like  my  own, 
and  the  eyes  of  more  than  one  Sister  were  moist  with 
tears.  We  then  went  to  "Our  Lady  of  the  Valley"  (at 
the  laundry)  to  tell  our  Sisters  the  good  news.  There 
we  thanked  the  Blessed  Virgin.  How  I  miss  Mother 
Theodore  I  We  should  have  embraced  each  other  so 
tenderly;  but  another  and  better  consolation  was  re- 
served for  her,  that  of  going  to  meet  Elvire.  Dear 
Elvire!  She  arrived  on  the  feast  of  Saint  Francis 
Borgia.  How  do  you  like  the  name  of  Borgia?  I  had 
selected  Mary  Eustelle  for  her,  but  Mother  Theodore 
wants  her  called  Ligouri.  Perhaps  the  bishop  has  al- 
ready given  her  a  name.  Regarding  this  future  name 
Mother  Theodore  and  I  have  been  like  our  own  family 
before  the  birth  of  Clementine,  whom  poor  dear  Uncle 
de  la  Motte  wished  to  name  Esther,  so  that  he  could  say 
to  her,  "Come  to  your  old  Uncle  Mardochai." 


336  ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

October  20. 

To-day,  my  mother,  after  eleven  years'  absence,  I 
shall  see  my  cherished  sister!  Oh!  may  I  be  for  her^  a 
model  and  a  support ;  but,  alas !  I  am  far  from  being  able 
to  say  with  Saint  Paul,  Be  ye  imitators  of  me,  as  I  also 
am  of  Christ.  Ask  this  for  me,  for  you  know  by  ex- 
perience how  great  is  the  force  of  example.  • 

This  afternoon  I  shall  go  to  Terre  Haute  to  meet  our 
new  family.  Madame  Piquet  has  already  arrived.  She 
is  a  charming  lady,  and  I  am  glad  Elvire  traveled  with 
her.  Yesterday  the  postulants  prepared  five  beds  for 
their  future  companions,  and  they  took  care  to  put  on 
Elvire's  the  blanket  you  sent  me  and  the  linen  having 
my  mark.  They  find  it  hard  to  study,  so  anxious  are 
they  to  see  their  new  Sisters.  It  was  only  four  days 
before  the  arrival  of  the  steamer  that  I  knew  from  a 
letter  written  by  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais  that  Elvire  was 
really  coming.  Until  then  Mother  Theodore  and  I 
made  frequent  acts  of  confidence  and  resignation,  even 
while  reading  the  bishop's  letter,  for  it  was  only  in  the 
postscript  that  he  said,  "I  have  just  received  news  from 
Saint  Servan;  all  is  arranged;  Mademoiselle  Elvire  le 
Fer  will  come." 

October  22. 

At  last  I  have  seen  her  and  embraced  her.  My 
mother!  I  did  not  recognize  her  countenance,  but  how 
soon  I  recognized  her  heart.  It  was  the  family — whole, 
entire.  Dear  Mother  Mary  had  written  me,  "You  will 
find  it  in  Elvire."  And  I  did;  or  rather  I  have  never 
lost  it,  for  it  is  imprinted  in  the  depths  of  my  soul — this 
dear  family — it  is  engraved  there;  but  Elvire  is  the 
frame  wherein  those  beloved  beings  seem  to  live  and 
speak.  Father  Corbe  and  the  Sisters  all  think  her 
charming,  and  old  Sister  Olympiade  has  become  ten 
years  younger.  I  am  afraid  we  shall  spoil  the  dear 
child.  After  a  week  I  shall  write  to  you  again,  or 
rather  to  Lorette,  for  you  all  must  have  very  sorrowful 
hearts.  I  shall  write  to  all.  Thank  you,  thank  you, 
my  mother,  for  consenting  to  send  us  your  treasure. 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  337 

Three  days  later  Irma  added: 

You  would  be  pleased  to  see  our  new  companion— 
Elvire.  She  is  quite  rested  now  from  the  fatigues  of 
her  journey.  She  eats  like  a  wolf  and  says  she  does 
not  dare  give  herself  time  to  take  out  her  handkerchief 
at  dessert  for  fear  Mother  Theodore  would  think  her 
finished  and  raise  her  famous  knife  as  the  signal  for 
grace.  She  amuses  us  by  her  naivete  and  does  many 
things  in  the  wrong  way.  When  I  undertake  to  set  her 
right  she  tells  me  that  Mother  has  given  her  full  liberty 
for  a  week  and  that  she  is  not  to  be  scolded  till  after  that 
time. 

She  says  she  is  always  going  to  be  one  of  the  first  at 
the  chapel,  for  she  noticed  that  the  good  Irish,  when  they 
come  on  feast  days,  plunge  their  head  and  hands  into 
the  holy-water  font  and  do  not  leave  a  drop,  and  she 
wishes  to  have  holy  water  to  prevent  distractions  as 
much  as  possible. 

I  am  going  to  tell  my  family  to  write  to  her  often. 
She  is  already  famishing  for  news.  I  tell  her  all  I 
know,  but,  like  our  separated  brethren,  she  prefers 
Scripture  to  Tradition.  As  for  myself,  I  feel  that  I 
can  now  get  along  without  letters.  Elvire,  like  an 
evening  breeze,  has  brought  the  fragrance  of  my  native 
land  to  the  home  of  my  exile.  She  has  come,  laden 
with  a  thousand  kisses,  a  thousand  marks  of  affection 
from  relatives  and  friends.  My  heart  cannot  express 
its  gratitude  to  God  for  myself  and  for  my  sister,  for 
the  happiness  of  a  religious  vocation  prevails  over  every 
other  feeling,  and  Elvire  is  here  to  share  it  and  the  hun- 
dredfold! .  .  . 

Oh,  how  she  already  loves  Mother  Theodore!  She 
would  indeed  discover  alone  all  her  perfections,  but  I 
am  only  too  happy  to  help  her.  I  point  them  out  in  a 
whisper,  however,  for  if  this  dear  Mother  were  to  hear 
me,  she  would  say,  as  she  does  when  reading  my  letters, 
"Sister  Saint  Francis,  may  God  forgive  you  all  your 
lies!" 

Mother  Theodore  added  some  lines  to  Madame  le 


338  ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION 

Fer  about  the  arrival  of  Elvire  at  Saint-Mary-of-the 
Woods : 

Nov.  2,  1852. 

Madame,  my  very  dear  friend,  the  mother  of  my  two 
beloved  daughters,  what  shall  I  say  to  you,  what  shall 
I  write?  It  would  be  very  sweet  for  me  to  be  able  to 
console  you,  but  it  is  not  given  to  man  to  heal  the 
wounds  of  your  heart,  so  good,  so  loving,  so  sensitive. 
God  alone  can  console  you,  strengthen  you;  He  alone 
could  give  you  the  courage  to  overcome  nature,  and  to 
make  all  the  sacrifices  He  has  required  of  you  this  year 
— for  what  a  year  for  poor  nature !  But  above  all,  what 
a  year  for  grace !  Only  in  heaven  will  you  understand 
the  treasure  with  which  your  soul  has  been  enriched  dur- 
ing these  months.  .  .  .  To  pray  for  you  is  a  necessity 
for  me ;  but  I  am  so  occupied  with  what  they  call  busi- 
ness, that  my  prayers  are  very  poor,  very  miserable; 
there  are  others  who  pray  better  than  I  do,  and  who 
frequently  during  the  day,  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  of 
our  poor  little  Chapel  of  the  Woods,  pray  for  a  mother 
whom  they  cherish  tenderly  and  whom  they  have  left 
only  for  God,  for  God  alone. 

You  already  know  that  I  went  to  New  York  l  for  our 
dear  Elvire!  Oh!  how  happy  I  was  to  embrace  her,  in 
offering  for  the  first  time  with  her  my  thanks  to  God! 
Some  days  later  we  were  at  Terre  Haute,  where  our 
dear  and  beloved  Sister  Saint  Francis  awaited  us.  ... 
The  presence  of  Mademoiselle  Elvire  has  given,  as  it 
were,  a  new  life  to  Irma.  She  is  well  for  her,  though 
she  has  a  cold.  I  appointed  Elvire  her  superior  to  take 
care  of  her;  fancy  how  she  acquits  herself  of  her  task. 
At  New  York  Elvire  made  me  very  uneasy  about  her 
health.  She  coughed  much,  especially  in  the  morning. 
Thank  God,  the  cough  has  entirely  left  her,  and  the  dear 
child  is  well,  yes,  well  in  every  respect.  She  has  an 
angelic  countenance  and,  what  is  more  remarkable  in 
my  opinion,  with  all  her  fine  qualities  she  is  charmingly 

i  The  Bishop  requested  Mother  Theodore  to  meet  him  at  New  York,  that 
together  they  might  consult  some  architects  before  beginning  the  new 
Mother  House  at  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods. — Ed. 


ELVIRE'S  RELIGIOUS  VOCATION  339 

simple.  Every  one  loves  her  already  and  looks  upon 
her  as  an  old  friend,  or  rather  as  an  old  Sister.  I  be- 
lieve she  is  called  upon  to  do  immense  good  in  this  por- 
tion of  the  Lord's  vineyard  that  He  gives  us  to  cultivate ; 
at  least  such  is  my  hope.  If  it  were  otherwise,  if  God 
did  not  call  her  to  the  religious  life,  I  would  place  her 
again  in  the  arms  of  her  mother.  Let  us  beg  God  that 
He  may  deign  to  show  us  His  Will,  and  let  us  promise 
to  follow  it  with  all  our  heart. 

It  is  probable  that  we  shall  go  to  Vincennes  this  week. 
Monseigneur  wants  to  show  his  asylums  to  Elvire  and 
her  companions;  he  is  going  to  send  for  them  one  of 
these  days.  I  shall  accompany  them  if  my  health  per- 
mits, for  I  cannot  send  Sister  Saint  Francis  as  the 
season  is  too  far  advanced.  Elvire  is  in  my  room  now 
with  her  guitar,  near  the  fire.  You  seem  to  be  with  us. 
You  will  come,  will  you  not?  I  have  already  selected 
a  room  for  you  in  our  new  house ;  it  is  not  ready  for  use 
yet,  but  I  hope  it  will  be  next  summer.  I  am  very 
happy  at  what  you  tell  me — that  you  prefer  Elvire  to  be 
here  with  us  than  elsewhere.  To  justify  this  flattering 
preference,  I  have  only  a  heart  to  love  your  dear  daugh- 
ters and  I  do  love  them,  yes,  very  tenderly,  and  their 
mother  too. 

Irma  must  now  pour  balm  into  wounds  she  herself 
had  inflicted.  Her  appreciation  of  the  value  of  suffer- 
ings, borne  in  the  spirit  of  loving  resignation,  was  not 
always  understood. 

To  her  Aunt  Marie,  who  had  been  somewhat  offended 
at  her  desiring  trials  and  sufferings  for  her  grandmother 
and  the  other  members  of  the  family,  she  writes : 

Well,  my  beloved  godmother,  are  you  still  displeased 
with  me?  Oh!  no;  you  will  rejoice  to-day  when  you 
hear  these  words,  "Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for 
they  shall  be  comforted."  Most  favored,  indeed,  are  we 
when  Our  Lord  makes  us  shed  tears  which  one  day  He 
will  wipe  away.  The  only  regret  I  have  for  my  grand- 


340  BALM  OF  CONSOLATION 

mother  is  that  she  did  not  have  more  sufferings.  I  com- 
fort myself,  however,  with  the  thought  that  her  anxious 
mind  afforded  her  unnumbered  opportunities  of  making 
sacrifices.  Our  saintly  Aunt  Jeanne  was  always  cruci- 
fying herself.  Abbe  Cardonnet  was  overwhelmed  with 
humiliations  and  infirmities.  Indeed,  we  should  be 
ashamed  to  enter  heaven  with  empty  hands.  Among 
our  workmen  is  a  good  old  man  named  Michel,  who 
always  considered  himself  the  happiest  man  at  Saint 
Mary-of-the-Woods  until  he  became  afflicted  with  can- 
cer of  the  nose.  Not  long  ago  I  said  to  him,  "My  good 
man,  you  would  have  been  the  only  one  of  your  kind  in 
heaven,  and  you  would  have  had  to  have  a  corner  apart, 
for  all  the  saints  have  suffered.  But  since  you  are  now 
so  afflicted  that  you  can  neither  eat  nor  sleep,  we  shall 
make  a  novena  for  you  to  Our  Lady  of  La  Salette." 
Hardly  had  our  prayers  begun  when  old  Michel  re- 
covered his  peace  and  his  usual  happiness.  He  offered 
to  God  the  sacrifice  of  his  appearance  and  of  his  life; 
but  the  Blessed  Virgin  obtained  for  him  a  partial  cure 
at  the  end  of  our  novena.  I  should  have  been  sorry  to 
see  our  only  male  singer  wanting  in  resignation,  for  he 
is  an  excellent  man.  He  has  cut  all  the  stone  for  our 
new  house  gratis  pro  Deo.  "I  am  only  too  happy,"  he 
said,  "to  do  something  for  our  Savior."  He  greatly 
admires  Elvire,  who,  in  turn,  thinks  him  charming. 

They  wrote  me  that  you  are  still,  just  as  when  I  left 
you,  always  occupied  about  others ;  that  my  lovely  sister 
Natalia,  speaking  of  you,  said  in  her  imperfect  French : 
"Good  Aunt  Marie  pinches*  at  everybody."  Try  to 
sanctify  your  natural  disposition  of  anticipating  the 
wants  of  others ;  for  you  can  acquire  much  merit  before 
God,  who  rewards  even  a  cup  of  cold  water  given  in  His 
name.  We  must  derive  profit  from  all  things,  and  thus 
we  shall  enrich  ourselves  in  our  little  retail  business, 
making  a  fortune  cent  by  cent. 

Last  evening  they  gave  me  a  superb  feast.  You 
would  be  happy  could  you  see  how  dearly  they  love  me. 

i  Pronouncing  pense   (thinks)   as  if  it  were  pince   (pinches).     La  bonne 
tante  Marie  pense  a  tout  le  monde. 


BALM  OF  CONSOLATION  341 

I  say  to  myself,  Dear  Lord,  how  faithfully  You  keep 
Your  word !  You  recompense,  even  in  this  world,  those 
who  have  left  all  to  follow  You.  ...  I  thought  when  I 
left  my  family  that  I  had  left  all  the  sweet  joys  of 
friendship,  but  Our  Lord  has  given  them  to  me,  and  still 
does  so  daily.  Every  year  when  the  third  of  December 
comes,  my  gratitude  redoubles;  but  this  year,  this  year, 
Elvire  is  here  to  embrace  me.  Well,  in  order  not  to  be 
ungrateful  I  must  now  be  very  good,  very  faithful. 

At  Benediction  Elvire  sang  a  hymn  in  honor  of  Saint 
Francis  Xavier ;  later  they  had  some  verses,  music,  and 
flowers  for  me,  and  they  made,  me  a  throne  covered  with 
my  sister's  cloak.  As  I  grow  older  I  become  more  like 
my  grandmother;  I  was  on  the  point  of  asking  for  my 
little  song  when  they  began  to  sing  it.  Sister  Olympi- 
ade  had  improvised  two  or  three  which  Elvire  put  to 
music;  Father  Corbe  laughed  heartily.  This  morning 
all  the  Communions  were  offered  for  me,  also  the  Mass 
(for  I  know  our  good  Father's  habits).  Mother  Theo- 
dore was  not  the  least  of  the  happy  ones;  she  rejoiced 
especially  to  see  me  in  such  good  health;  she  was  quite 
unlike  one  of  our  Sisters  who  wrote  to  me,  "Why  are 
you  not  still  sick  and  I  taking  care  of  you?  That  was 
the  happiest  time  of  my  life." 

Yesterday  in  fancy  I  saw  Saint  Francis  Xavier  go  to 
my  father  and  with  a  smile  say  to  him,  "Well,  Monsieur 
le  Fer,  are  you  not  happy  to  have  two  of  your  daughters 
in  my  diocese  of  Vincennes?  We  must  now  pray  for 
these  children,  that  they  may  bring  here  with  them  a 
great  many  souls."  Then  my  father  bowed  to  Saint 
Francis,  and  together  they  went  to  petition  Our  Lord. 
Ah!  my  dear  aunt,  how  happy  they  are  in  heaven! 
How  can  we  regret  that  they  have  gone  there? 

Tell  my  cousin  Charles  de  Kraoul  that  I  owe  to  him 
one  of  my  most  consoling  thoughts.  Elvire  told  me 
that  during  my  father's  illness,  the  doctor  having  pre- 
scribed mutton  1  on  a  day  when  it  could  not  be  procured, 

i  In  1852  Lent  was  still  observed  with  such  strictness  at  Saint  Servan  that 
during  Holy  Week  a  chop  could  not  be  procured  except  from  a  hotel  in  the 
neighboring  city. 


342  BALM  OF  CONSOLATION 

Charles  de  Kraoul  offered  to  kill  his  boy's  pet  lamb. 
At  this  the  tears  came  to  my  eyes ;  but  later,  when  in  the 
chapel,  I  said  to  myself:  What!  God  has  so  loved  us 
as  to  immolate  His  only  Lamb,  His  only  Son,  that  we 
might  be  healed  by  His  blood,  and  can  we,  after  this, 
doubt  the  love  of  such  a  Physician  for  his  patients?  O 
my  cherished  aunt!  it  seems  to  me  that  the  greatest  of 
all  sins  is  distrust. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  profited  by  every  circumstance 
to  address  words  of  consolation  to  her  mother,  and  to 
soften  as  much  as  possible  the  sorrow  felt  by  Madame  le 
Fer  for  the  departure  of  her  daughter.  On  hearing  of 
the  visit  of  some  French  gentlemen  to  Henry  V,1  then 
in  exile,  she  wrote: 

Last  night  in  my  dreams  I  saw  this  Dieudonne,  this 
dear  prince  given  to  France  by  God.  All  my  royalist 

blood  was  roused,  and  I  considered  G most  happy 

to  have  given  a  proof  of  fidelity  to  the  proscribed  king 
rather  than  to  his  king  on  the  throne.  Then,  my 
mother,  I  thought  that  we,  too,  have  our  Sovereign  in 
exile.  Oh !  how  well  He  receives  us  when  we  visit  Him. 
How  He  allows  us  to  approach  Him;  how  sweetly  He 
looks  upon  us!  He  invites  us  to  His  table;  He  imparts 
to  us  His  secrets.  Others  may  acknowledge  Him  for 
their  Lord  when  He  comes  in  the  glory  of  His  Father, 
but  for  us,  our  happiness  is  to  say  to  Him  while  He  is 
in  the  prison  of  His  love,  "My  God  and  my  King!" 
My  dearest  mother,  Our  Lord  can  pardon  us  all  our 
faults,  He  can  give  us  a  place  in  heaven  for  a  single  act 
of  contrition  made  at  the  moment  of  death ;  but  what  He 
cannot  give  an  absolved  penitent  is  an  assurance  of 
fidelity.  The  grace  of  graces  is  to  love  Jesus  Christ  in 
His  exile,  and  to  prove  our  love  for  Him  by  our  sacri- 
fices, that  so  we  may  say  to  Him :  "You  have  pardoned 
me,  my  Lord ;  this  is  much,  yes,  far  more  than  I  deserve ; 
but  You  have  done  still  more — You  have  allowed  me  to 

i  The  Count  of  Chambord. 


BALM  OF  CONSOLATION  343 

render  you  some  little  services;  and  while  others  salute 
the  sovereigns  who  are  contending  for  the  world,  I  re- 
pose near  You  without  desiring  their  favor." 

If  Henry  V  had  asked  Monsieur  de  G for  one 

of  his  children;  if  he  had  said  to  him:  "It  is  by  your 
son  I  hope  to  reconquer  my  kingdom,  which  is  dearer 
to  me  than  life,"  would  he  have  refused?  Would  he 
have  shed  tears  daily  over  his  absence?  Would  he  have 
asked  him  back  by  his  sighs?  You  know  this  kingdom 
so  dear  to  Jesus,  and  do  you  not  wish  your  Elvire  to  be 
the  happy  one  chosen  to  conquer  souls?  I  have  no 
doubt  that  Our  Lord  pardons  your  weakness,  but  I  do 
doubt  very  much  whether  in  heaven  you  will  pardon 
yourself,  if  before  entering  the  realms  of  the  Blessed 
you  do  not  from  the  depths  of  your  heart  tell  Jesus  that 
you  surrender  to  Him  absolutely  your  treasure,  your 
Elvire.  But,  my  beloved  mother,  you  have  already 
done  this.  Your  heart  has  combated,  and  the  love  of 
God  has  gained  the  victory.  You  mourn  over  the 
victim,  but  you  would  not  take  it  back. 

Not  long  ago,  talking  to  our  pupils  of  the  joys  of 
heaven,  I  told  them  how  much  it  cost  you  to  part  with 
me,  and  I  repeated  your  words,  "It  is  for  their  happi- 
ness, for  their  salvation,  that  I  give  you  up."  I  spoke 
to  them  then  of  your  second  sacrifice,  adding  that  one 
day  in  heaven  they  would  surround  you  and  dry  your 
tears  and  thank  you.  The  scene  was  very  touching,  I 
assure  you.  In  the  evening  all  the  pupils  came  to  wel- 
come Elvire. 

We  shall  now  see  that  Madame  le  Fer  de  la  Motte 
took  back  nothing  of  the  new  sacrifice  she  had  made  to 
God.  About  this  time  she  wrote  to  Mother  Theodore: 

I  charge  my  beloved  daughters  to  remind  you  of  our 
day  of  contract  [Friday]  in  honor  of  the  Sacred  Heart. 
On  that  day  I  unite  with  them  in  a  special  manner  in  the 
Heart  of  our  Divine  Savior  to  whom  I  have  given  them. 
Assure  them  I  do  not  repent  of  what  I  have  done.  If 
sometimes  a  cloud  obscures  the  beauty  of  the  great  sacri- 


344  ABBE  COLLET 

fice  made  to  a  God  of  love,  His  merciful  hand  is  ever 
ready  to  drive  it  away.  ...  I  always  take  care  of  the 
flowers  of  my  Irma's  garden.  I  have  transplanted  a 
bunch  of  her  forget-me-nots  to  Elvire's  flower-bed. 
But  it  is  not  necessary  that  these  little  blue  flowers  my 
daughters  loved  so  much  should  speak  to  me  in  their 
language,  for  in  my  heart  there  is  a  lif e  of  remembrance 
of  these  dear  absent  ones.  I  weep  for  them  at  Saint 
Servan,  but  I  live  with  them.  If  I  question  them  be- 
yond the  sea,  they  answer  me.  It  is  a  bi-location  of  the 
heart,  a  mysterious  power  of  maternal  love,  which 
mothers,  by  nature  or  by  grace,  alone  can  feel  and  un- 
derstand. 

Elvire's  director  and  most  true  friend  must  have  a 
letter  from  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier: 

To  MONSIEUR  L'ABBE  COLLET 

I  am  sure  that  a  little  word  about  your  dear  child  will 
give  you  pleasure,  especially  as  this  little  word  will  tell 
you  we  have  found  in  her  all  the  good  you  had  dis- 
covered and  announced  to  us.  Yes,  my  dear  brother 
(permit  me  to  address  you  thus),  yes,  God  has  given 
great  favors  to  the  soul  of  Elvire,  and  He  has  given  us 
a  precious  gift  in  choosing  this  house  for  the  theater  of 
her  virtues.  She  has  not  as  yet,  of  course,  the  knowl- 
edge or  the  practice  of  the  rules  of  a  religious  house,  but 
she  has  everything  required  to  appreciate  and  follow 
them.  Her  judgment  is  of  admirable  rectitude,  her 
will  possesses  a  strength  which  would  remove  mountains, 
and  her  heart  is  formed  to  understand  the  secrets  of  the 
love  of  Jesus  and  to  compassionate  the  sufferings  of 
others.  What  enhances  in  my  eyes  the  gifts  that  Our 
Lord  has  bestowed  upon  her,  is  that  He  keeps  them 
hidden  from  Elvire  herself.  She  sees  only  her  repug- 
nance to  good  and  counts  for  nothing  an  act  of  virtue 
made  with  effort.  Poor  child,  she  has  had  her  cloudy 
days,  and  I  may  say  that  I  shared  them,  for  my  heart 
wept  when  she  shed  tears.  Our  Lord,  however,  sus- 


ABBE  COLLET  345 

tained  our  courage.  I  cannot  say  as  much  of  Mother 
Theodore  who  braves  the  waves  of  the  ocean  more 
calmly  than  she  endures  the  sight  of  a  tear  from  one  of 
her  daughters.  She  has  never  been  able  to  bear  seeing 
Elvire  afflicted.  I  do  not  doubt  that  her  prayers  and 
yours  have  abridged  the  days  of  trial.  Mother  Theo- 
dore and  Elvire  love  each  other  very  much.  God  cer- 
tainly inspired  you  when  you  confided  your  treasure 
to  Mother  Theodore.  If  I  begin  to  speak  of  her,  I  shall 
never  know  when  to  finish.  The  longer  I  live  with  her, 
the  more  I  thank  God  for  having  called  me  to  be  di- 
rected by  her.  The  Jesuit  Fathers  who  conduct  our 
retreat  each  year  have  often  told  us  that  they  wish  for 
their  missions,  Sisters  formed  by  Mother  Theodore. 
Father  Corbe  appreciates  her  as  they  do  and  more.  We 
are  spoiled,  are  we  not,  in  having  the  superiors  we  have? 
It  seems  that  since  Elvire's  arrival  Our  Lord  has  been 
pleased  to  multiply  our  children.  Never  have  we  had 
so  many  pupils  ask  for  baptism,  never  has  the  number 
of  our  boarders  been  so  large.  We  intend  to  undertake 
a  new  good  work  as  soon  as  our  house  is  finished.  This 
old  house  will  be  given  up  to  the  poor  Catholic  children 
of  the  country  who  are  unable  to  attend  the  boarding 
school.  We  have  four  young  girls  already  preparing 
for  their  Easter  duties.  One  of  them  is  nineteen  years 
old  and  has  not  yet  made  her  First  Communion.  They 
are  accommodated  in  our  dormitory;  we  are  very  much 
crowded,  but  that  does  not  prevent  our  being  gay  and 
happy.  I  told  Elvire  that  I  thought  it  was  due  to  our 
friends  at  the  presbytery  that  God  has  been  blessing 
our  work  so  visibly.  You  pray  for  us  every  day  at 
Saint  Servan;  you  are  our  brothers,  our  aid,  our  hope. 
Perhaps  one  of  you  will  be  called  to  a  post  nearer  to  our 
Indiana.  May  the  will  of  God  be  done!  In  it  is  our 
peace  and  our  sanctification. 

I  do  not  forget  Monsieur  Dorin.  He  is  also  a 
member  of  the  family  of  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods. 
Thanks  to  both  of  you  for  the  good  your  visits  do  my 
mother  and  for  what  your  prayers  accomplish  here. 


346  ABBE  COLLET 

A  second  letter  to  Abbe  Collet  is  dated  August  16, 
1853: 

A  word,  yes,  a  word  of  joy  and  happiness.  Our 
child  [Elvire,  now  Sister  Mary  Joseph]  has  received 
the  Holy  Habit;  she  has  laid  aside  the  garments  of  the 
world  to  clothe  herself  with  the  livery  of  Jesus  poor  and 
despised.  You  would  have  wept  for  joy  to  see  her,  so 
modest  and  pure,  at  the  foot  of  the  altar.  I  made  an 
offering  to  God  for  you  of  this  spiritual  daughter.  I 
offered  her  for  my  mother,  for  my  sisters,  for  all  those 
whom  He  has  given  me  and  who  know  how  to  appreci- 
ate so  sublime  a  happiness.  Indeed,  to  present  such  a 
victim  was  a  precious  favor.  To-day  as  I  beheld  her 
under  her  veil  I  said  to  myself,  Do  I  really  see  her  with 
my  own  eyes  ?  Mother  Theodore  was,  I  think,  as  happy 
as  I.  Father  Corbe  on  seeing  her  in  her  new  costume 
could  only  say,  "Pauvre  Soeur  Marie  Joseph!"  The 
bishop  thinks  she  resembles  me  still  more  since  she  has 
the  Habit. 

The  other  evening  Elvire  and  I  were  speaking  of 
those  who  are  interested  in  our  souls'  welfare.  I  men- 
tioned Abbe  Cardonnet,  and  she  her  dear  Abbe  Collet. 
Both  of  you  love  us  in  God.  I  say  "love  us,"  for  he 
who  has  gone  has  not  ceased  to  love  in  the  land  of  per- 
fect love.  There  we  have  friends  and  brothers;  how 
happy  it  makes  us  feel  to  know  that  we  are  loved!  El- 
vire smiles  when  she  hears  me  say,  Abbe  Collet  would 
not  do  this  or  that.  She  says  I  speak  of  you  as  if  I 
knew  you.  I  reply  that  it  never  enters  my  mind  that 
you  are  a  stranger.  I  was  unfortunate  enough  to  begin 
to  describe  you — light  hair  somewhat  curly,  blue  eyes, 
etc.  When  I  was  informed  that  my  imagination  had  so 
badly  pictured  you,  I  was  on  my  guard  against  portray- 
ing Abbe  D .  After  all,  I  said  to  her,  this  does  not 

prevent  me  from  being  well  acquainted  with  Abbe 
Collet ;  and  if  I  make  a  mistake  as  to  the  features  of  his 
face  I  do  not  in  the  sentiments  of  his  heart. 

Various  details  about  Sister  Saint  Francis  and  Sister 
Mary  Joseph  are  now  given  by  Mother  Theodore : 


-  c/e 


DETAILS  BY  MOTHER  THEODORE  347 

Madame  and  dear  Friend: 

For  several  weeks  our  beloved  daughters  have  been 
occupied  in  looking  among  our  little  nothings  of  Saint 
Mary's  to  find  something  that  might  please  their  be- 
loved mother.  I  was  also  thinking  about  what  I  could 
put  in  the  trunk.  I  could  find  nothing,  nothing;  at 
length  a  happy  thought,  suggested  by  Sister  Mary 
Joseph,  struck  me  like  a  ray  of  light.  I  shall  send  the 
daguerreotype  of  Sister  Saint  Francis.  (I  had  prom- 
ised this  to  myself  a  long  time  ago,  but  at  length  the 
time  had  come.)  The  trouble  was  to  get  it  from  her. 
For  many  weeks  she  was  suffering  from  her  summer 
smothering  attacks.  It  was  not  easy  to  take  her  to 
Terre  Haute  in  that  state.  A  fine  day  now  presented 
itself;  it  was  not  too  warm;  we  might  start.  I  had  the 
horses  hitched  to  the  carriage.  I  invited  Sister  Saint 
Francis  and  Sister  Mary  Joseph  to  seat  themselves  in 
it,  and  lo!  we  were  all  three  en  route,  speaking  of  the 
weather,  admiring  the  beauty  of  our  forests,  the  progress 
of  the  future  railroad,  etc.,  etc.  At  length  I  spoke  of 
the  portrait.  What  a  shock!  Imagine,  if  you  can,  all 
the  objections  made  by  our  poor  little  daughter,  and 
also  the  eloquence  with  which  we  opposed  them.  We 
made  enough  fuss  to  deafen  the  horses ;  however,  we  had 
not  persuaded  her,  and  we  were  already  on  the  bridge 
over  the  Wabash.  Finally  we  found  the  vein  of  per- 
suasion by  painting  in  lively  colors  the  pleasure  you 
would  have  in  contemplating  those  cherished  features, 
and  in  showing  the  likeness  to  everybody.  We  repre- 
sented the  family  assembled  at  the  opening  of  the 
package;  we  heard  their  cries  of  joy,  the  conversation 
which  ensued,  etc.  At  last  the  tears  flowed,  and  the 
victory  followed.  Elvire  quickly  put  the  toilette  in 
order.  Now  behold  us  in  the  room  (sky-lighted) ,  deter- 
mined to  have  the  picture.  Our  dear  little  daughter 
was  charming  and  lent  herself  with  good  grace  to  all  we 
wanted.  The  trip,  our  little  dispute,  and  the  walk  from 
the  carriage  to  the  third  story,  had  made  her  look  beau- 
tiful. How  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her ! 

If  Sister  Mary  Joseph  had  not  left  her  likeness,  I 


348  DETAILS  BY  MOTHER  THEODORE 

should  have  sent  hers  also;  I  shall  send  it  later  in  the 
religious  Habit,  when  she  shall  have  taken  her  vows,  if  I 
live.  These  two  dear  daughters  are  well.  Both  of 
them  are  my  consolation  and  procure  the  glory  of  God, 
and  will  continue  to  do  so  in  future.  Sister  Mary 
Joseph  will  speak  English  much  better  than  Sister  Saint 
Francis.  I  suppose  these  dear  children  give  you  all  the 
news  that  can  interest  you. 

Before  the  arrival  of  Elvire,  I  thought  it  was  impos- 
sible for  me  to  love  any  one  as  much  as  my  first  daugh- 
ter, my  dear  Sister  Saint  Francis,  and  lo!  now  I  blend 
the  two  in  my  affection.  I  might  almost  say  that  I  feel 
something  more  tender  and  more  demonstrative  for  the 
younger,  and  there  is  no  jealousy  on  the  part  of  the 
other.  Sister  Saint  Francis  says  that  Elvire  and  I  re- 
semble each  other  in  disposition.  I  am  quite  proud  of 
this,  for  I  find  many  good  qualities  in  the  dear  child; 
but  I  feel  that  I  do  not  resemble  her.  If  you  could  see 
how  gracious  she  is,  how  she  advances  in  the  path  of 
virtue,  and  how  happy  she  is ! 

From  time  to  time,  however,  her  pure  and  serene 
countenance  is  slightly  clouded,  imperceptible  to  others, 
but  perceptible  to  me.  She  has  committed  a  little  fault, 
or  has  been  guilty  of  an  imperfection  in  the  fulfillment 
of  her  duty.  I  scold  her,  embrace  her,  and  all  is  over. 
How  happy  I  am  to  have  your  daughters,  my  dear 
friend !  I  am  happy  because  they  will  do  much  for  the 
glory  of  God.  What  has  not  our  dear  Sister  Saint 
Francis  done  already!  Elvire's  time  will  come;  she  is 
preparing  herself,  and  is  laying  a  very  solid  foundation 
on  which  to  raise  the  edifice  of  perfection.  If  you  knew 
how  much  we  love  each  other!  It  seems  to  me  that  the 
ties  of  holy  friendship  uniting  us  are  stronger  even  than 
those  of  blood.  The  health  of  your  dear  Elvire  is  good. 
I  do  not  think  that  any  one,  even  you,  Madame,  her 
tender  mother,  can  be  more  anxious  to  preserve  her  pre- 
cious health  than  I  am.  Did  you  but  know  my  hopes 
for  the  future  in  regard  to  this  child  of  benediction! 
All  here  love  and  esteem  her;  it  is  impossible  to  know 
her  and  not  to  have  these  sentiments.  You  can  imagine, 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  349 

then,  how  happy  Sister  Saint  Francis  is  to  have  her 
here. 

In  an  early  chapter  we  met  the  name  of  the  most  illus- 
trious and  beloved  Bishop  of  Le  Mans,  Monseigneur 
Bouvier.  The  Sisters  of  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods 
looked  upon  him  as  their  father.  He  was  indeed  their 
unfailing  friend,  their  defender  and  protector.  He  un- 
derstood Irma.  When  all  prudence,  all  reason  seemed 
cast  to  the  winds,  he  uttered  these  decisive  words:  "I 
do  not  say  that  she  will  arrive  at  Vincennes,  but  I  do 
say  she  must  start."  So  highly  did  he  esteem  the  virtue 
of  the  young  novice  that  he  volunteered  to  permit  her 
to  take  perpetually  binding  vows  before  leaving  for 
America.  He  also  permitted  her  to  take  an  extra  vow 
of  Consecration  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament.  Irma  tells 
of  her  immeasurable  happiness  on  account  of  these 
favors  in  a  letter  previously  quoted.  We  naturally 
look  for  an  extensive  correspondence  between  Le  Mans 
and  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods.  The  only  letters  that 
have  been  recovered,  some,  mere  fragments,  are  now 
presented. 

To  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER,  BISHOP  OF  LE  MANS 

Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods,  February  28,  1843. 
My  Lord  and  Father, 

I  cannot  express  the  joy  that  your  most  dear  let- 
ter gave  us  all.  One  has  to  be  more  than  two  thousand 
leagues  from  her  superiors  to  understand  this,  for  the 
solitude  in  which  we  live  is  something  more  painful  for 
the  French  than  even  misery.  The  faces  here  wear  such 
a  cold  look !  With  an  unknown  language,  snow  for  the 
past  five  months,  around  us  an  icy  atmosphere,  your  re- 
membrance of  us,  my  Father,  was  like  a  sunbeam  in  the 
month  of  December.  I  offered  a  Communion  to  thank 
Our  Lord  for  the  tender  care  He  takes  of  us.  I  say 
"tender,"  since  He  chose  your  paternal  hand  to  relieve 


S50  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER 

us.  Oh!  sometimes  it  costs  much  to  ask  from  strangers 
and  to  receive  what  they  give  with  disdain.  But  I  have 
made  the  vow  of  poverty,  and  the  poor  should  not  be 
proud. 

I  suppose  our  Mother  has  spoken  to  you  about  Made- 
moiselle Bernard.1  I  was  so  surprised  at  her  resolute- 
ness during  the  first  days  which  she  passed  with  us  that 
I  looked  upon  her  nearly  as  a  model  of  courage,  abne- 
gation, and  of  humility.  I  was  the  first  to  urge  that 
she  might  be  given  a  trial  in  the  novitiate,  knowing  this 
would  please  his  Lordship.  Oh!  I  assure  you  I  have 
done  penance  for  it.  Never  had  I  come  in  contact  with 
such  a  head!  She  is  able  to  cure  one  forever  of  illu- 
sions. She  takes  all  her  reveries  for  realities,  and  as- 
sures us  that  you  told  her  things  one  would  never  have 
thought  of.  She  may  probably  do  harm  to  the  com- 
munity, although  she  politely  said:  "Do  not  be  uneasy; 
I  have  seen  all,  but  I  will  not  say  anything."  I  do  not 
know  what  she  has  seen,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the 
greatest  abuse  she  could  have  remarked  in  our  com- 
munity is  that  such  a  subject  was  suffered  to  remain  for 
so  long  a  time.  As  in  this,  so  in  all  other  things,  only 
what  God  wills,  shall  happen. 

How  happy  we  are  to  be  the  daughters  of  Providence ! 
By  It  we  are  directed,  and  if  it  happens  that  we  make  a 
mistake  while  we  believe  we  are  doing  right,  it  is  Provi- 
dence again  that  takes  care  to  rectify  our  errors,  teach- 
ing us  at  the  same  time  to  mistrust  our  own  lights.  The 
less  we  have  of  human  aid,  the  more  it  seems  does  God 
watch  over  us,  and  in  this  desert  where  He  has  placed 
us,  He  Himself  is  our  Moses,  our  Manna,  and  our  Pillar 
of  Light.  I  could  not  express  to  you  the  happiness  my 
vocation  gives  me.  It  is  not  such  as  I  had  pictured  it 
to  myself  in  France,  but  much  more  pure,  since  it  is 
nothing  but  humility,  abandonment,  and  renunciation. 
O  my  Father,  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  having 
sent  me ! 

i  Miss  Bernard  was  a  young  woman  who  had  been  dismissed  from  a  com- 
munity in  France.  Mother  Theodore,  though  very  reluctantly,  consented  to 
give  her  a  trial  of  the  novitiate,  at  the  instance  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier 
whose  motives  are  disclosed  in  the  letter  here  given. 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  351 

Never  before  have  I  found  myself  so  favorably  cir- 
cumstanced for  attaching  myself  solely  to  God.  Mon- 
seigneur  de  la  Hailandiere  is  undeceived  as  to  my  pre- 
tended perfections;  my  ridiculous  pronunciation  of  the 
English  puts  me  out  of  danger  of  vanity  with  my  com- 
panions; Mother  Theodore's  frequent  illnesses  prevent 
me  from  leaning  upon  her;  in  fine,  my  fervor  has  van- 
ished with  a  large  part  of  my  interior  consolation. 

If  one  day  you  could  come  among  us,  you  would  see 
that  your  work  is  truly  the  work  of  God.  Our  Ameri- 
can Sisters,  born  so  proud,  and  so  independent,  submit 
with  zeal  to  the  least  observances  of  our  holy  Rule. 
Among  them  are  some  endowed  with  great  courage,  and 
who  serve  God  because  it  is  right  and  reasonable  to 
do  so,  but  not  because  it  is  sweet  to  love  Him.  All  have 
great  love  for  their  superiors  in  France,  and  would  be 
very  happy  to  know  them. 

I  have  collected  for  you  various  incidents  relating  to 
our  mission.  If  I  can  write  them  out  before  your  let- 
ters are  sent,  I  will  do  so;  if  not,  they  will  be  for  next 
month.  I  am  so  pleased  when  we  receive  news  from 
Ruille,  that  I  thought  you  would  be  glad  to  hear  some- 
thing of  our  Indiana,  which  is  now  the  battlefield  of 
your  children,  and  sometimes  a  field  of  victory.  What- 
ever may  be  the  issue  of  the  combat,  we  shall  have  glori- 
fied God  if  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  guided  by  His 
Providence,  and  we  shall  always  bless  Him  for  having 
inspired  you  to  prolong  our  life  of  exile,  which  will 
assure  us  of  the  possession  of  our  heavenly  country,  if 
we  are  faithful. 

January  13,  1850. 

We  should  be  uneasy  about  your  health,  on  account 
of  the  time  which  has  elapsed  since  we  had  the  consola- 
tion of  receiving  a  letter  from  you,  had  we  not  learned 
from  Father  Corbe  that  your  Lordship  was  at  Rennes 
on  the  eleventh  of  November  at  the  opening  of  the  pro- 
vincial council. 

We  are  awaiting  details  of  this  interesting  event,  in 
the  New  Orleans  paper.  We  are  not  yet  dead  to 


352  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER 

France,  and  much  less  when  there  is  question  of  affairs 
in  which  religion  and  our  venerated  Father  of  Le  Mans 
are  concerned.  We  hope  that  the  Republic  will  not 
trouble  our  dear  Congregation  of  Ruille. 

This  dear  community  is  certainly  not  influenced  by 
the  ideas  of  the  present  day,  since,  instead  of  changing 
their  head  when  they  could  do  so,  they  had  recourse  to 
authority  in  order  to  retain  her.  We,  in  union  with  our 
Sisters  of  France,  thank  you,  my  Lord,  for  having  been 
willing  to  leave  us  our  able  guide.  Poor  Mother  Mary! 
if  she  had  received  less  from  God,  she  would  be  happier 
and  more  quiet!  But  she  prefers,  I  am  sure,  to  enjoy 
less  peace  that  others  may  have  much  more. 

We  have  not  had  any  difficulty  in  regard  to  the  elec- 
tion of  our  Mother  since  Monseigneur  de  Saint  Palais  is 
bishop.  When  he  was  only  a  simple  priest,  he  approved 
our  refusal  of  an  election,  and  always  urged  us  to  fol- 
low the  advice  of  our  superiors  in  France.  The  com- 
munity looks  upon  Mother  Theodore  as  foundress  and 
enjoys  in  peace  the  advantage  which  her  superiorship 
procures. 

As  for  herself,  I  should  be  well  pleased  if  she  could 
be  replaced  in  a  few  years ;  but  we  are  until  now  so  poor 
that  I  see  no  chance  at  all  of  rest  for  Mother  Theodore. 
To  give  you  an  idea  of  our  misery,  you  must  know  that 
they  forced  the  Blessed  Virgin  to  perform  a  miracle  to 
prevent  me  from  dying  six  weeks  ago.  You  remember 
perhaps,  my  Father,  what  a  weakly  appearance  I  had 
when  I  had  the  consolation  of  consulting  you  about  my 
vocation.  Well !  although  I  am  twice  as  weak  now  as  I 
was  then,  yet  such  as  I  am  as  to  health,  without  counting 
the  infirmities  of  soul,  I  am  still  found  useful,  and  I  own 
to  you  that  I  think  like  the  others;  for  during  my  ill- 
ness there  was  no  one  who  could  give  the  lessons  to  the 
postulants,  and  it  was  a  real  affliction  for  me  to  see  these 
poor  children  without  a  mistress. 

All  our  Sisters  at  the  Academy  have  more  work  than 
they  are  able  for.  We  need  twice  as  many  as  we  have. 
After  all,  we  must  not  wish  to  be  richer  than  the  Lord 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  353 

wants  us  to  be.  This  work  would  be  less  His,  if  done 
by  other  instruments. 

Our  orphan  asylum  is  doing  very  nicely.  I  hope  it 
will  continue  to  prosper.  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais  is 
all  heart  for  his  little  girls ;  he  has  had  a  pastoral  letter 
published  in  their  favor. 

Our  good  Superior x  Father  Corbe  is  always  with  us. 
He  accompanied  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais  to  the  Council 
of  Baltimore.  All  the  bishops  of  America,  who  knew  of 
our  past  difficulties,  approved  him  for  having  upheld 
us,  and  assured  him  that  they  had  no  doubt  of  the  suc- 
cess of  our  Congregation. 

Last  month  Monseigneur  Blanc,  Bishop  of  New  Or- 
leans, wrote  to  Mother  Theodore  begging  for  some  of 
our  Sisters.  We  could  not  accept  his  proposal.  Had 
he  made  it  three  years  ago,  we  should  no  longer  be  in 
Indiana.  God  wants  us  in  our  poor  forest. 

The  Bishop  of  Chicago,  ex-provincial  of  the  Jesuits 
of  St.  Louis,  came  to  see  us  two  months  ago.  He  is 
our  nearest  neighbor;  he  is  still  poorer  than  we  are  in 
subjects  and  in  furniture.  His  episcopal  city  offers 
him  no  resources,  he  has  not  even  a  servant  to  take  care 
of  him.  When  we  went  to  Father  Corbe's  house  to  re- 
turn his  visit,  he  received  us  standing.  "My  Lord,"  I 
said,  "are  you  not  going  to  offer  us  a  seat?"  "Pardon 
me,"  he  answered,  smiling,  "it  is  because  I  have  the  habit 
of  receiving  my  company  this  way.  Formerly  I  had 
two  chairs  in  my  parlor  and  a  small  trunk.  When  a 
gentleman  and  a  lady  came  to  see  me,  I  offered  a  chair 
to  the  lady,  I  sat  on  the  other,  and  the  gentleman  put 
himself  on  the  trunk;  but  one  of  my  chairs  has  disap- 
peared, so  I  am  obliged  now  to  remain  standing,  as  well 
as  my  company." 

Mother  made  him  a  present  of  several  pious  objects 
for  his  Catholic  children ;  he  was  much  pleased  with  his 
visit.  How  happy  should  we  be  if  we  could  receive  a 

i  During  the  difficulties  that  arose  almost  at  the  beginning  between  the 
Shepherd  of  the  diocese  and  his  flock,  the  bishop  appointed  Father  Corbe 
Ecclesiastical  Superior  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence,  an  office  he  held  from 
1844  until  his  death  in  1872.  He  is  the  only  one  that  has  ever  borne  this 
title,  the  Rule  not  providing  for  such  an  office. 


354  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER 

visit  from  you!  At  least,  my  good  Father,  write  a  little 
oftener  to  your  daughters  on  the  other  side  of  the  seas. 
Repeat  to  us  that  you  pray  for  us,  that  you  love  us 
much,  that  our  success  gives  you  joy.  We  know  all 
this,  it  is  true;  we  know  the  interest  you  bear  us,  yet 
it  is  always  a  new  pleasure  when  we  receive  a  letter  from 
Le  Mans. 

March  18,  1851. 

We  pray  earnestly  to  our  Father,  Saint  Joseph,  to 
send  us  subjects  capable  of  glorifying  God,  and  not  to 
allow  others  to  remain.  To-morrow  we  shall  redouble 
our  prayers,  and  he  will  be  compelled  to  listen  to  us, 
for  he  has  charge  of  our  Congregation.  Two  of  our 
little  orphans  received  the  sacrament  of  Baptism  a  week 
ago.  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais  was  their  godfather,  and 
Mother  Theodore,  godmother  of  one  who  was  named 
Mary  Joseph. 

Monseigneur  hopes  to  be  in  France  by  the  end  of 
May,  but  he  does  not  know  if  his  affairs  will  be  settled 
by  that  time. 

I  take  advantage  of  the  absence  of  our  dear  Mother 
Superior  to  inform  you  of  what  we  did  at  our  last  re- 
treat. You  will  now  think  that  she  will  have  no  one  in 
whom  she  can  put  her  trust,  if  I  join  myself  to  the  con- 
spirators. I  was  very  anxious  to  tell  you  of  our  little 
plot,  but  was  obliged  to  wait,  for  if  she  had  seen  my 
letter,  there  would  have  been  no  more  joy  for  her. 
Poor  Mother!  She  has  always  flattered  herself  that 
we  would  let  her  go  in  peace,  and  that  she  would  be 
soon  relieved  of  her  burden.  For  fear  she  should  be 
seized  with  too  strong  a  temptation  on  this  score  during 
the  absence  of  Bishop  de  Saint  Palais,  we  begged  him 
to  second  our  desires.  I  will  copy  the  letter  of  his  Lord- 
ship for  you. 

"My  dear  Daughters, 

"Convinced,  like  yourselves,  that  the  good  of 
the  Community  demands  that  Mother  Theodore, 
Foundress  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence  in  Indiana, 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  355 

should  retain  the  superiorship  during  her  lifetime,  I 
accede  to  your  desires,  and  confirm  with  all  my  heart 
the  nomination  made  by  his  Lordship  the  Bishop  of  Le 
Mans." 

We  should  like  to  know  of  the  satisfaction  our  act 
will  cause  you,  but  have  the  goodness  to  write  to  Father 
Corbe,  who  is  in  the  secret;  it  would  be  imprudent  to 
speak  of  it  to  me,  lest  my  letter  should  fall  into  the  hands 
of  our  Mother.  None  but  our  Sister  Councillors  know 
about  it. 

I  am  asking  of  Almighty  God  one  more  favor  for  our 
community ;  it  is  that  of  having  our  Rules  approved  by 
the  Pope.  I  hope  that  we  shall  obtain  this  favor  for 
both  our  dear  Houses  of  Ruille  and  of  Saint  Mary's. 

Our  Sisters  were  so  flattered,  when  I  told  them  your 
Lordship  had  written  to  our  Mother  that  your  Congre- 
gation of  Indiana  was  as  dear  to  you  as  that  of  Ruille. 
They  exclaimed,  "Could  that  be  true  ?  Do  you  not  think 
it  a  mere  compliment?"  I  answered  that  you  would  not 
write  anything  that  you  did  not  mean.  Then  I  had 
to  tell  them  whom  you  were  like.  "Oh!  I  am  sure," 
said  one  of  them,  "that  the  Bishop  of  Le  Mans  resembles 
Bishop  Bazin."  I  said  you  were  good  like  him,  but 
that  your  look  was  more  serious.  They  always  come 
back  to  the  conclusion  that  you  must  come  to  see  them ; 
they  would  take  fine  care  of  you.  I  am  satisfied  with  a 
happiness  farther  away,  but  more  lasting.  Let  him 
who  has  put  his  hand  to  the  plow  not  look  back.  No, 
not  even  to  render  the  last  duty  to  his  father.  This 
would  be  very  hard  if  uttered  by  any  other  than  by  Him 
whose  yoke  is  sweet  and  burden  light. 

May  22, 1852. 

In  this  beautiful  month  of  May,  how  many  times  have 
we  not  prayed  for  you !  I  am  sure  that  more  than  once 
you  also  have  asked  for  your  daughters  the  grace  they 
need,  and  that  our  good  and  powerful  Mother  has  often 
had  to  open  the  treasures  of  her  divine  Son  for  us  and 
for  you.  Prayer — that  is  our  Post,  our  Telegraph,  our 
surest  means  of  communication. 


856  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER 

We  have  the  privilege  of  being  the  object  of  the 
hatred  and  contempt  of  our  dissenting  brethren.  That 
is  a  good  sign.  If  we  were  of  this  world  the  world 
would  love  its  own.  At  Fort  Wayne  some  weeks  ago 
they  undertook  to  sell  at  their  fair  Sisters  of  Providence. 
They  dressed  dolls  in  our  costume,  then  made  their 
faces  like  monsters.  But  they  were  not  lucky.  All  the 
"Sisters"  remained  on  their  hands,  and  the  following 
week,  nine  new  pupils  entered  our  school.  And  yet 
they  had  gone  around  to  all  the  parents  to  forbid  them, 
under  pain  of  perdition,  to  send  their  children  to  the 
Sisters. 

Our  Academy  was  never  so  flourishing.  We  now 
have  sixty  pupils.  Next  Sunday,  Pentecost,  four  will 
be  baptized.  Why  are  you  not  here,  dear  Father,  to 
rejoice  with  us!  But  this  year  you  have  almost  had  a 
glimpse  of  your  dear  daughters,  since  our  good  bishop 
brought  you  an  account  of  all  our  little  affairs.  He  will 
go  again  and  speak  to  you  about  us,  and  then  he  will 
come  back  and  speak  to  us  about  you.  We  heartily 
wish  that  you  could  accompany  him  to  Indiana;  but  as 
that  is  impossible,  could  you  not,  at  least,  entrust  him 
with  your  portrait?  It  would  be  a  present  sweeter  to 
our  hearts  than  maple  sugar  is  to  the  palate.  Besides, 
you  told  us  to  ask  for  something  in  return  for  our  little 
presents;  so  you  are  pledged  now,  my  Lord.  Two  or 
three  minutes  of  patience  would  be  enough  for  a  daguer- 
reotype, and  these  few  minutes  of  sacrifice  would  make 
us  very  happy. 

When  you  see  our  good  superiors  of  Ruille,  would 
you  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  them  that  we  are  quite  anxious 
to  have  the  List  of  Obedience,  and  that  we  thank  them 
beforehand  for  a  souvenir  to  which,  as  Sister  M.  Lu- 
dovic  says  very  well,  another  souvenir  is  attached ;  since 
it  is  the  very  list  which  our  worthy  bishop  has  held  in 
his  hands  in  our  dear  chapel  of  Ruille.  Oh!  may  you 
for  a  long  while  yet  send  out  your  daughters  in  the  vine- 
yard of  our  divine  Master!  God,  in  asking  of  me  the 
sacrifice  of  my  virtuous  father  a  few  days  ago,  leaves 
me  the  hope  that  He  will  preserve  to  us  the  Father  of 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  357 

my  new  family,  the  Guide,  the  Pastor  of  my  dear  Sisters 
of  Providence. 

Whenever  I  think  of  you  I  experience  an  increase  of 
gratitude  to  God  and  also,  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  a 
sentiment  mingled  with  uneasiness  about  your  precious 
health;  but  I  endeavor  to  replace  it  by  confidence  and 
prayer.  May  I  beg  of  you  some  prayers  for  my  be- 
loved father?  If  you  find  me  too  bold,  then  I  beg  of 
you  to  leave  me  out  of  your  mementos  for  some  time, 
and  to  include  my  father.  Ah !  when  shall  we  all  be  to- 
gether there  in  that  beautiful  land  where  we  shall  have 
nothing  else  to  say,  but  to  thank  1  Oh!  how  I  long  for 
that  blessed  day  when  death  will  be  no  more,  nor  ab- 
sence, nor  sin  which  has  caused  them. 

February  21,  1853. 

It  is  a  long  time  since  we  received  news  from  you. 
Could  it  be  that  you  are  ill?  It  seems  to  me  that  our 
superiors  of  Ruille  would  have  informed  us  if  such  were 
the  case.  Perhaps  your  journey  to  Rome  has  given  you 
extra  occupation  at  your  return;  and  you  thought  no 
doubt  that  your  daughters  of  Indiana  might  wait  a  few 
weeks  longer.  We  must  confess  to  you  the  cause  of 
our  impatience.  You  went  to  Rome ;  as  soon  as  Bishop 
de  Saint  Palais  informed  us  of  your  journey  we  prayed, 
prayed  much  for  its  success.  We  thought  that  your 
Lordship  would  be  willing  to  speak  of  our  holy  Rules, 
and  that  they  would  perhaps  be  approved.  We  begin 
to  fear  that  they  are  not,  since  we  receive  no  news, 
either  from  Le  Mans  or  from  Ruille.  Is  the  day 
which  God  has  appointed  for  granting  us  this  favor  yet 
to  be  delayed?  I  earnestly  hope,  however,  that  you  will 
again  see  our  good  Pope  Pius  IX,  and  that  he  will  add 
to  all  his  holy  works  that  of  the  approbation  of  our  Con- 
stitutions. 

Mother  Theodore  has  a  great  many  things  to  engage 
her.  She  has  been  obliged  nevertheless  to  relinquish 
some  of  her  occupations  this  winter  on  account  of  her 
poor  health.  She  has  not  had  one  of  those  alarming 
attacks  which  make  us  cry  out  Parce  Domine,  but  for  a 


358  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER 

long  time  she  has  had  a  sort  of  fever,  together  with  head 
and  stomach  trouble.  She  has  appointed  me  her  secre- 
tary to  you,  and  while  I  am  sorry  for  the  cause,  I  re- 
joice in  the  consequences,  at  least  for  this  time,  for  I 
must  own  that  I  am  a  poor  writer  on  business  matters. 
Mother  has  lost  much  by  the  death  of  our  dear  Sister 
Angelina,  who  wrote  her  business  letters  admirably  well. 
I  fear  that  Ruille  has  to  lament  over  the  loss  of  a  still 
more  skillful  hand ;  for  Sister  Angelina,  being  the  music 
mistress,  had  never  been  named  Secretary;  and  Sister 
Mary  Ludovic  was  not  only  useful  by  her  pen,  but  also 
by  her  counsel,  her  heart,  and  her  mind.  Bishop  de 
Saint  Palais  spoke  to  us  at  length  of  good  Bishop  Bou- 
vier,  and  of  our  dear  Providence,  which  he  would,  I  be- 
lieve, willingly  have  chosen  for  his  see  in  France.  He 
brought  us  a  young  English  person,  pious,  amiable,  and 
educated;  she  seems  pleased  to  be  here;  and  as  you  al- 
ready know,  he  also  brought  my  dear  Elvire,  who  has 
the  beautiful  name  of  Sister  Mary  Joseph.  It  would 
have  been  a  great  consolation  for  her  to  have  seen  you 
when  she  passed  through  Le  Mans.  It  would  also  have 
been  one  for  me ;  but  that  does  not  prevent  us  from  often 
speaking  of  you.  I  intend  now  to  make  her  acquainted 
with  you  as  our  superior,  for  she  knows  you  by  reputa- 
tion as  a  theologian.1  She  admires  the  wonders  God 
has  wrought  for  us,  and  is  happy  to  be  called  to  labor  in 
our  mission.  Since  the  return  of  the  bishop  we  have  had 
such  an  increase  of  pupils  that  the  number  is  nearly 
doubled.  Yesterday  we  counted  eighty-five. 

We  have  a  plan  in  view,  which  I  know  will  interest 
you;  it  is  to  open  a  school  for  our  poor  young  Catholic 
girls  who  have  not  the  means  to  attend  our  boarding 
school.  When  our  new  Mother  House  is  completed  we 
will  give  up  this  one  to  them.  We  have  already  four 
with  whom  to  begin  our  work;  they  have  not  yet  made 
their  First  Communion.  In  this  our  old  house  we  are 
actually  piled  up  on  each  other.  I  hope  it  is  not  only 

i  Bishop  Bouvier  was  the  author  of  a  work  in  Latin  entitled  "Jnstitutionei 
Theologieae  Ad  Uswm  Seminariorum."  It  was  published  in  six  volumes,  and 
was  highly  esteemed  throughout  France. 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  359 

literally  it  may  be  said  that  we  are  closely  united.  Hap- 
pily Our  Lord  has  diffused  His  spirit  of  charity  among 
us,  and  with  that  we  can  bear  gayly  the  inconveniences 
of  close  quarters.  You,  Father,  were  the  first  instru- 
ment of  this  holy  mission  of  Indiana,  and  its  support  in 
its  trials.  I  feel  it  must  be  a  consoling  thought  to  you 
to  reflect  on  the  multitude  of  children  who,  through  you, 
now  receive  religious  instruction.  Five  or  six  of  our 
pupils  are  preparing  to  receive  baptism.  Bishop  de 
Saint  Palais  baptized  at  his  return  the  daughter  of  the 
State  Treasurer,  Miss  Almeria  Drake. 

The  good  bishop  writes  us  to-day  that  two  Benedictine 
Fathers  have  arrived;  he  has  been  expecting  them  for 
some  weeks.  He  invites  Father  Corbe  to  go  and  see 
them,  promising  to  bring  him  back  to  Saint  Mary's.  We 
were  happy,  indeed,  during  the  absence  of  his  Lordship, 
to  have  good  Father  Corbe  for  Administrator.  He  is 
really  all  we  could  wish  for  for  our  community.  He 
always  speaks  of  you  with  the  greatest  interest,  and  is 
very  grateful  when  you  mention  him  in  your  letters. 
The  bishop  regretted  keenly  not  to  have  seen  you  again 
when  he  passed  through  Le  Mans.  He  was  so  happy 
with  you,  and  your  episcopal  city  has  great  charms  for 
him.  Monsieur  Vincent  is  not  forgotten. 

We  pray  not  only  for  you,  but  for  all  your  diocese. 
We  have  asked  Our  Lord  to  bless  your  journey  to  Rome. 
No  doubt  but  that  when  our  Holy  Father  the  Pope  will 
kneel  on  his  beautiful  prie-dieu,  he  will  think  of  Bishop 
Bouvier,  and  will  feel  disposed  to  grant  him  his  requests. 
In  waiting  to  obtain  what  our  two  Communities  so  sin- 
cerely desire,  we  will  continue  our  prayers.  It  is  by 
prayer  that  we  are  united  in  petitioning  for  the  same  fa- 
vor. The  altar  is  the  center,  of  our  unity.  Every  morn- 
ing you  present  to  Our  Lord  your  daughters  in  exile,  that 
one  day  they  may  be  with  Him,  and  they  in  turn  recom- 
mend to  His  Divine  Heart  the  Father  they  so  grate- 
fully love. 

April  27,  1854. 

Your  good  letter  of  the  month  of  February  reached 
us  on  Holy  Thursday.  We  thanked  God  that  no  ac- 


360  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER 

cident  befell  you.  We  scarcely  dared  inquire  about  you 
for  fear  of  receiving  bad  news. 

We  should  have  been  very  happy  to  have  received 
your  dear  portrait  for  our  New  Year's  gift,  but  we  pre- 
fer to  wait  longer  and  have  it  painted  in  oil. 

I  must  inform  you  of  a  ruse  which  came  to  my  mind. 
For  a  long  time  we  have  wished  Mother  Theodore  to 
have  her  portrait  taken  in  oil, — we  would  even  be  satis- 
fied with  a  daguerreotype — but  neither  our  prayers  nor 
our  supplications  have  availed  anything  so  far.  She  was 
extremely  touched  at  your  condescension.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  if  you  asked  for  her  likeness  she  would  not 
refuse  it  and  we,  looking  upon  what  belongs  to  our 
Father  as  ours,  would  have  it  copied.  What  do  you 
think  of  our  scheme?  Our  reverend  superior  would  be 
much  pleased,  and  we  still  more  so.  We  are  happy,  in- 
deed, that  God  leaves  us  this  much  beloved  Mother  The- 
odore. She  has  been  very  sick  this  winter,  but  we  had 
recourse  to  our  great  remedy — prayer.  She  is  at  pres- 
ent visiting  our  missions,  whose  number  increases  every 
year.  How  much  good  Mother  Theodore  does  here! 
She  knows  how  to  make  virtue  loved,  and  to  inspire  us 
with  the  courage  to  practice  it.  A  great  union  reigns 
among  us  all;  truly  we  are  like  children  of  the  same 
family  by  affection,  and  like  children  whom  a  little 
nothing  amuses.  The  world  all  around  our  forest  is  an 
unfriendly  world;  but  like  little  birds  which  sing  from 
their  nests,  we  also,  without  fearing  the  arrows  of  the 
hunter,  rejoice  in  our  solitude,  having  no  other  friends 
but  our  superiors  and  our  companions.  We  have  intense 
consolations  in  our  pupils ;  three  were  baptized  on  Easter 
Sunday.  They  appeared  so  happy ;  what  a  comfort  for 
us!  One  of  them  had  a  sister  baptized  last  Sunday; 
four  of  the  girls  who  come  to  our  free  school  were  bap- 
tized also.  The  eldest  was  seventeen  years  of  age,  the 
youngest  five  years.  Their  mother  was  a  Protestant; 
their  father  died  a  Protestant,  but  they  obtained  permis- 
sion to  become  Catholics.  Two  of  our  pupils  who  were 
converted  here  at  Saint  Mary's  have  entered  the  noviti- 
ate this  year.  We  have  at  present  fifteen  postulants. 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  361 

Perhaps  Bishop  Martin  will  bring  us  a  reinforcement. 
Many  towns  in  Indiana  would  like  to  have  us,  and  out- 
side of  this  State  we  are  wanted  also.  We  would  have 
loved  with  all  our  heart  to  establish  ourselves  in  the  new 
diocese  of  Natchitoches,1  but  we  are  still  too  young  to  go 
so  far. 

During  the  month  of  May  we  shall  pray  much  for 
the  success  of  the  voyage  of  Bishop  Martin;  we  hoped 
his  Lordship  would  come  to  Saint  Mary's  before  going 
to  see  you  in  France,  but  he  was  unwilling  to  rob  his 
flock  of  fifteen  days  of  his  precious  time. 

Our  good  bishop  was  sick  nearly  all  winter.  He  is 
yet  weak,  although  better.  He  continues  to  be  for  our 
Congregation  what  he  always  was ;  and  for  his  orphans 
he  has  the  tenderness  of  a  father.  We  are  very  happy 
that  God  has  caused  the  rainbow  of  peace  to  shine  over 
our  mission;  we  have  no  other  storms  than  those  which 
are  raging  above  the  tops  of  our  trees,  and  for  two  weeks 
these  are  continuous ;  but  the  Cross  on  our  high  2  house 
protects  us,  it  is  our  sure  lightning  rod.  Bishop  Martin 
intends  to  go  to  Rome.  Every  time  I  hear  Rome  and 
our  Holy  Father  the  Pope  mentioned,  the  thought  of 
our  holy  Rules  comes  to  my  mind.  I  beg  of  God  to  let 
me  live  until  the  day  when  they  will  be  solemnly  ap- 
proved. Is  there  any  hope  of  this  coming  to  pass  soon? 
There  is  one  point  of  the  Rule  that  we  sometimes  wish 
could  be  changed.  Though  perhaps  to  the  disadvan- 
tage of  the  superior,  it  would  truly  be  profitable  to  the 
community;  it  is,  that  the  office  of  Superior  General 
might  be  perpetual,  like  that  of  the  assistants;  that  is, 
that  we  might  have  the  right  to  reelect  her  as  long  as 
it  be  judged  well  to  do  so. 

We  rejoice  each  time  that  you  have  the  goodness  to 
allow  the  reelection  of  Mother  Mary ; 3  in  future  times 

1  Natchitoches  was  Bishop  Martin's  see.    Bishop  Martin  had  been  Vicar 
General  in  the  diocese  of  Vincennes.     He  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  Sisters  of 
Saint   Mary-of-the-Woods   at   Rome,   and   always   remained   their   staunch 
friend. 

2  The  new  Mother  House  was  a  three-story  building — very  high  compared 
to  their  log  cabin  convent. 

3  Mother  Mary  was  the  Superior  General  of  the  Congregation  of  Provi- 


362  MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER 

the  successors  of  Bishop  Bouvier  and  of  Bishop  de 
Saint  Palais  may  not,  perhaps,  resemble  them.  We 
have  no  difficulties  whatever  in  regard  to  the  adminis- 
tration. Father  Corbe  appreciates  our  Mother  Theo- 
dore, and  by  his  example  contributes  to  cause  her  to 
be  loved  and  respected.  I  could  never  say  enough  in 
praise  of  this  good  Father  Superior.  Bishop  Martin 
will  be  able  to  tell  you  better  than  I  what  a  gift  God 
made  us  on  the  day  He  gave  him  to  us.  His  Lordship 
[Bishop  Martin]  is  himself  a  precious  gift  for  the  in- 
habitants of  Louisiana,  for  he  unites  piety  to  learning, 
talents  to  zeal. 

We  shall  see  one  another  in  our  true  country,  but  we 
rejoice,  and  our  American  Sisters  rejoice  with  us,  in  get- 
ting a  glimpse  of  our  good  Father  of  Le  Mans,  even  in 
this  life.  If  Bishop  Martin  is  too  long  in  Europe  you 
might  send  us  your  longed-for  portrait  through  my 
family  of  Saint  Servan.  I  have  begged  one  of  my 
sisters  to  forward  to  you  an  Indian  mat  for  the  tray 
of  your  coffee  pot.  Your  wishes  for  our  temporal  pros- 
perity have  been  heard — eighty-four  pupils  give  us  at 
the  same  time  the  means  of  doing  them  good  and  of  re- 
ceiving benefit  from  them. 

The  correspondence  between  the  Bishop  of  Le  Mans 
and  the  Sisters  of  Indiana  comes  to  a  sudden  close.  The 
illustrious  prelate,  although  aged  and  feeble,  journeyed 
to  Rome  in  1854  to  attend  the  Vatican  Council.  Pope 
Pius  IX,  seeing  the  great  infirmity  and  weakness  of  his 
beloved  son,  had  him  take  rooms  in  the  Vatican,  a  suite 
of  six  rooms  on  the  ground  floor  being  assigned  him. 
By  this  arrangement  he  would  not  have  to  ascend  the 
stairs  in  going  back  and  forth  to  the  sessions.  The  hon- 
ored and  grateful  bishop  had  the  joy,  on  December  8th, 

dence  at  Ruill£-sur-Loir.  She  held  that  high  office  for  forty-nine  years  with 
but  six  years'  intermission,  during  which  time  Mother  Saint  Charles  held  the 
office. 


MONSEIGNEUR  BOUVIER  363 

of  hearing  proclaimed  the  dogma  of  the  Immaculate 
Conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary.  The  following 
day  he  was  unable  to  rise  and  he  died  soon  after  with  the 
Holy  Father  at  his  bedside. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MARRIAGE   OF   MADEMOISELLE  LE  FEE  DE   LA   MOTTE— 
DEATH   OF   MONSIEUE  JOSEPH    CHOESNET 

SHORTLY  after  the  death  of  Monsieur  le  Fer  de 
la  Motte,  his  daughter  Cecile  was  married  to 
Monsieur  Joseph  Choesnet.     Irma,  as  has  been 
said,  had  long  hoped  that  Cecile  would  come  some  day  to 
join  her.     As  soon  as  the  will  of  God  was  manifested, 
however,  she  easily  resigned  herself,  and  encouraged  her 
sister  to  follow  her  vocation.     She  said  to  her,  among 
other  things: 

Well,  my  dear  Cecile,  Our  Lord  has  called  you  to 
sanctify  yourself  in  the  married  state,  in  the  state  which 
Saint  Paul  compares  to  the  union  of  Our  Lord  with 
His  spouse  the  Church.  Yes,  you  will  love  him  whom 
our  good  Father  has  chosen  for  you,  and  you  will  be 
happy  with  him.  .  .  .  Like  the  young  Tobias  and 
Sarah,  you  are  the  children  of  saints.  You  will  aid 
each  other  to  support  the  trials  of  life,  and  you  will  have 
the  hope  of  being  reunited  beyond  the  grave.  Mother 
Theodore  has  made  me  realize  God's  ways  in  your  re- 
gard, and  she  is  perfectly  satisfied  as  to  your  future. 
With  all  my  heart  I  approve  of  your  choice.  Assure 
my  new  brother  of  my  prayers  and  my  affection.  Have 
courage,  my  child,  for  God  watches  over  you.  Let  us 
love  the  dear  Savior,  who  so  loved  us. 

Irma  wrote  also  to  Monsieur  Choesnet : 

Would  you  believe  that  Cecile  forgot  to  tell  me  your 
beautiful  name?  When,  after  your  marriage,  she  did 
tell  me,  I  experienced  great  peace  and  joy.  I  am  under 
many  obligations  to  Saint  Joseph,  both  for  my  family 

364 


MARRIAGE  OF  CECILE  LE  FER  365 

and  for  myself  personally,  so  that  it  seems  a  mode  of 
expressing  gratitude  to  offer  a  loving  and  devoted 
brother  to  one  who  bears  his  name. 

If  storms  come  to  trouble  your  peace,  teach  your  dear 
Cecile  to  take  refuge  in  the  Heart  of  Jesus,  an  asylum 
always  open  and  always  safe.  My  very  dear  ones,  the 
joys  of  this  world  pass  all  too  quickly  and  are  often 
followed  by  tears;  but  religion  is  at  hand  to  sanctify 
them  in  their  short  duration.  Trials  last  longer,  but 
faith  will  help  you  to  bear  them.  Ah !  may  you,  through 
both  joys  and  sorrows,  one  day  reach  our  beautiful 
country!  .  .  . 

As  Sister  Saint  Francis  had  written,  the  joys  of  this 
world  are  fleeting;  and  her  sister's  happiness  was  des- 
tined to  be  exceedingly  brief.  The  embarrassments  re- 
sulting from  an  entangled  inheritance,  which  was  ar- 
ranged with  great  difficulty  and  delays,  caused  restric- 
tions in  household  matters.  Pertaining  to  this  subject, 
Irma  wrote  to  Cecile : 

I  quite  understand  your  uneasiness  about  financial 
difficulties,  debts  which  seem  to  have  no  end.  But  what 
are  the  affairs  of  time  compared  with  those  of  eternity; 
some  hundred  francs  due  to  man  compared  with  God's 
book  of  accounts?  How  much  good  is  effected  by  a 
half-hour's  meditation  and  by  the  giving,  the  total  aban- 
donment, of  one's  self  to  God!  Throw  yourself  into 
His  bosom  with  your  hands  and  feet  tied.  You  have  so 
little  patience,  without  the  cords  of  His  divine  grace 
you  would  go  astray  either  to  the  right  or  to  the  left. 
It  is  grace  alone  which  enables  me,  like  you,  to  consent 
to  your  sufferings.  While  reading  your  letter  Elvire 
and  I  now  and  then  would  say,  "So  much  the  better; 
trials  will  strengthen  her  and  make  her  advance  in 
the  way  of  virtue."  But  we  would  add,  "Poor 
Cecile!" 

She  wrote  again: 

Cecile,  you  are  of  an  anxious  disposition,  but  your 


366  NEW  TRIALS  AND  SORROWS 

fears  should  not  make  you  distrustful  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence. Trust  in  God,  and  brave  all.  Ask  Him  to  give 
you  back  your  old  soul,  that  soul  created  by  Him  and 
for  Him.  Now,  more  than  ever,  I  should  like  to  prove 
to  you  both  my  love  for  you.  I  am  praying  for  you 
specially,  and  I  recommend  you  in  a  particular  manner 
to  Saint  Joseph  during  his  beautiful  month.  Elvire 
prays  much  for  you,  and  so  does  Mother  Theodore,  who 
loves  you  even  more  dearly  than  ever.  It  is  well  for 
you  that  you  did  not  care  to  come  here,  for  she  cer- 
tainly would  have  spoiled  you.  Nevertheless,  she  in- 
tends giving  you  a  sermon  on  confidence  in  the  Provi- 
dence of  God,  and  she  will  not  listen  at  all  to  your 
fears  for  the  future.  You  will  always  have  what  is 
necessary.  Tell  Joseph  that  I  shall  not  pray  for  him 
any  more  unless  he  gives  up  his  idea  of  traveling. 
What  will  it  avail  you  to  have  heard,  "Woe  to  the  rich," 
if  in  your  heart  you  desire  riches?  You  both  want  to 
go  to  heaven,  and  yet  you  would  load  yourselves  with 
a  burden  that  will  keep  you  waiting  at  the  gate.  What ! 
would  you  not  purchase,  at  the  cost  of  a  few  privations, 
an  eternal  kingdom,  a  kingdom  prepared  by  God? 
Come,  my  dear  ones,  reanimate  your  faith.  Will  God 
ever  let  His  children  be  in  want?  He  gives  food  to 
the  birds  of  the  air,  and  is  His  goodness  confined  to  them 
alone? 

Pay  some  visits  to  Nazareth,  and  see  how  simple 
everything  is  there.  Two  little  rooms,  one  a  workshop 
where  Saint  Joseph  with  his  adopted  Son  planes  some 
boards ;  in  the  other  a  woman  is  seated  mending  clothes. 
There  is  no  carpet,  no  sofa  in  that  poor  dwelling.  But 
is  not  this  cottage  the  home  of  our  Blessed  Mother? 
And  this  woman,  who  is  her  own  servant  and  the  servant 
of  the  family,  is  she  not  Mary  the  Mother  of  God  and 
OUT  tender  Mother?  If  Saint  Joseph  had  followed  his 
own  inclination  he  would  have  erected  a  throne  for  her. 
Willingly  would  he  have  crossed  the  forests  of  Lebanon 
in  search  of  the  most  precious  wood  for  exquisite  furni- 
ture to  offer  her.  But  he  knew  God  wished  her  to  be 
poor,  that  it  was  only  in  heaven  that  she  was  to  be 


NEW  TRIALS  AND  SORROWS  367 

queen,  and  that  there,  in  the  midst  of  the  splendor  of 
her  glory,  she  would  still  love  the  memory  of  Naz- 
areth. 

My  dear  Joseph,  are  we  not  heirs  of  a  kingdom  which 
is  not  of  this  world?  Why,  then,  do  we  seek  to  have 
here  below  riches  and  consolations?  We  are  Christians, 
and  at  the  baptismal  font  we  renounced  the  pomps  and 
vanities  of  the  world.  Lift  your  eyes  to  heaven,  for 
there  a  palace  is  being  prepared  for  you  and  for  all  of 
us.  The  less  baggage  we  have,  the  faster  we  shall  move 
on,  and  when  we  arrive  we  shall  be  proud  to  have  borne 
the  glorious  livery  of  Our  Lord. 

I  ask  for  you  the  love  of  holy  mediocrity.  Ask  for 
us  the  love  of  poverty.  As  I  have  espoused  this  dear 
virtue,  it  should  be  one  of  your  kindred.  I  leave  it  to 
Cecile  to  convince  you  that  she  can  be  happy  even  with- 
out her  cashmere ;  she  has  a  heart  that  does  not  need  to 
be  warmed  over.  Your  goodness,  your  virtues,  your 
sincere  piety,  are  far  more  precious  to  her  than  all  your 
inventive  generosity  could  offer. 

A  more  grave  and  painful  source  of  suffering  than 
pecuniary  embarrassments  was  soon  to  be  the  portion  of 
the  young  couple.  Scarcely  two  years  after  their  mar- 
riage, Monsieur  Choesnet  began  to  suffer  from  hemor- 
rhages, a  prelude  to  the  long  and  painful  pulmonary 
disease  which  youth  may  indeed  combat  for  some  years, 
but  never  really  conquer.  From  time  to  time  the  disease 
seemed  to  yield  to  remedies,  or  at  least  to  make  no  prog- 
ress, and  on  such  occasions  Monsieur  Choesnet  would 
flatter  himself  with  the  hope  of  a  cure.  More  often, 
however,  sadness  inundated  his  soul,  especially  when  he 
thought  of  his  youth  and  of  the  many  years  of  happiness 
which  he  might  yet  enjoy,  but  which  were  to  be  denied 
him.  Amid  these  alternations  of  dejection  and  hope, 
despite  his  lively  faith  and  sincere  piety,  the  sweetness 
of  his  gentle  disposition  became  noticeably  altered. 


368  BANNER  DEVICES 

This  sad  consequence  of  his  illness  was  a  source  of  addi- 
tional suffering  for  them  both ;  and  Cecile,  expecting  no 
longer  any  earthly  help,  implored  still  more  fervently 
that  of  Heaven. 

In  January,  1855,  the  city  of  Saint  Servan  celebrated 
the  glory  of  Mary  Immaculate.  All  the  inhabitants, 
rich  and  poor,  vied  with  one  another  in  love  and  zeal 
for  the  proclamation  of  the  dogma  of  Mary's  stainless 
purity.  From  all  the  houses,  and  from  every  window 
were  hung  banners  and  oriflammes  on  which  were  in- 
scribed the  titles  of  Mary's  glory  and  grandeur.  Ma- 
dame Choesnet  had  placed  upon  hers  these  words  only, 
"Pity,  O  Mary!"  Later  she  sent  this  symbol  of  her 
sorrow  to  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods.  Irma  alluded  to 
it  in  a  letter  to  her  mother: 

Now,  my  dear  mother,  you  can  see  better  the  dif- 
ference in  our  lots.  If  I  were  to  have  a  device  for  my 
standard,  it  would  be,  "Thank  you,  O  Mary!"  Grati- 
tude is  the  sentiment  that  rises  above  all  others  in  my 
heart.  You,  also,  are  grateful  for  the  vocation  God 
has  conferred  upon  two  of  us;  and  yet,  strange  to  say, 
you  would  tremble  if  another  of  your  daughters  should 
ask  to  share  the  same  happiness,  and  perhaps  you  would 
rather  see  her  married.  God  is  truly  a  good  God,  to 
be  willing  to  love  and  recompense  those  who  so  greatly 
fear  that  their  children  may  give  themselves  entirely  to 
Him. 

Irma  wrote  to  her  brother-in-law  to  console  and  en- 
courage him  in  his  sufferings: 

God  desires  to  keep  you  near  Him,  and  He  refuses 
you  the  most  innocent  pleasures  of  life,  even  that  of 
health,  in  order  that  you  may  turn  your  heart  entirely 
to  Him.  Indeed,  my  dear  brother,  you  need  our 
prayers,  for  this  is  an  hour  when  nature  would  give 
way,  if  our  Savior  did  not  sustain  you  by  His  grace. 


A  BROTHER-IN-LAW'S  ILLNESS  369 

Father  Gleizal,  a  good  Jesuit,  wrote  to  our  dear  little 
novice,  Sister  Josephine  who  is  now  in  heaven,  and  who 
loved  you  because  you  bore  her  name  and  suffered  from 
the  same  disease,  "Have  courage,  my  child;  it  is  Jesus 
who  presents  you  His  cross  under  all  these  forms.  You 
would  like  to  go  about,  and  you  have  to  remain  shut  up 
in  your  room — well,  that  is  a  cross ;  you  are  oppressed — 
that  is  a  cross ;  you  are  sad,  and  tempted  to  discourage- 
ment— that  also  is  a  cross." 

I  should  like  to  send  you  good  Father  Gleizal  him- 
self, for  he  is  a  living  unction  to  sweeten  the  cross.  He 
is  often  ill,  but,  inasmuch  as  he  has  surmounted  his 
own  weakness,  he  is  full  of  compassion  for  others.  In 
features  he  resembles  my  beloved  father;  perhaps  it  is 
on  this  account  that  what  he  says  affects  me  so  much. 
God  has  taken  from  you,  as  He  did  from  us,  an  excel- 
lent father,  and  when  I  go  to  heaven  I  shall  make  his 
acquaintance.  There,  too,  you  will  see  the  one  whom 
Cecile  wishes  you  might  have  known  on  earth.  Dear 
Cecile!  I  like  to  think  of  her  as  near  you  like  the  angel 
that  consoled  Our  Lord  in  His  agony.  She  will  remind 
you  that  salvation  is  secured  by  drinking  to  the  very 
dregs  the  cup  of  suffering.  My  dear  Joseph,  when  we 
are  in  Heaven  we  shall  not  remember  our  afflictions, 
except  to  thank  God  for  having  §ent  them  to  us. 

Though  the  world  and  nature  no  doubt  think  you 
very  unfortunate,  Cecile  and  you  are,  in  the  light  of 
faith,  two  well-loved  privileged  children.  Alas!  my 
poor  heart,  too,  sometimes  says  what  nature  and  the 
world  say.  Just  now  I  am  suffering  from  oppression 
and  I  cough  at  night,  and  then  my  thoughts  turn  to 
you.  For  the  last  three  months,  or  rather  for  the  last 
year,  I  have  seen  my  beloved  Mother  Theodore  growing 
daily  weaker  and  weaker ;  knowing  how  this  affects  me, 
I  think  of  Cecile  and  say  to  myself,  My  heart,  like  hers, 
suffers  more  in  the  one  it  loves  than  if  the  sufferings 
were  its  own.  Since  Mother  Theodore  fell  into  the 
Ohio  River  last  year  she  has  been  very  ailing.  She 
was  obliged  to  keep  her  bed  part  of  the  time  during  her 
visitation  of  the  missions,  and  she  is  unable  even  now 


370  A  BROTHER-IN-LAW'S  ILLNESS 

to  leave  the  house ;  but  I  am  sure  Saint  Anne,  to  whom 
we  have  great  devotion,  will  obtain  her  cure. 

Elvire  and  myself  often  speak  of  you;  she  also  fre- 
quently visits  your  room  in  spirit  and  brings  you  to  our 
chapel  by  her  prayers.  She  places  you  both  at  the  feet 
of  Our  Lord.  We  are  united  in  prayer  for  you  and  beg 
you  to  give  us  a  share  in  your  sufferings.  Some  day  in 
heaven  we  shall  rejoice  with  the  same  joy. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  never  learned  of  the  death  of  her 
brother-in-law.  When  the  letter  announcing  it  reached 
Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  she  herself  had  quitted  this 
world. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

DEATH  OF  IRMA'S  GODMOTHER,  HER  AUNT  MADE- 
MOISELLE MARIE  LE  FER  DE  LA  MOTTE 

ON  January  1st,  1854,  Mademoiselle  Marie  le 
Fer  de  la  Motte  was  carried  off  suddenly  from 
her  family.     Upon  the  death  of  this  dear  aunt 
and  godmother  whom  she  tenderly  loved,  Irma  wrote : 

To  HER  AUNT,  MADAME  DE  LA  SALLE 

March  8,  1854. 

My  beloved  Aunt : — Yesterday  morning  I  said  to  El- 
vire,  I  am  going  to  write  to  my  poor  godmother;  and 
in  the  afternoon  we  heard  she  was  no  more,  or  rather 
that  she  lives  where  she  sees  my  thoughts  and  hears  my 
prayers.  My  precious  Aunt  Marie,  you  will  not  for- 
get her  whom  you  presented  to  God  on  the  day  of  her 
birth,  and  who,  though  far  away,  sheds  tears  in  spirit 
at  your  grave.  Whenever  heretofore  any  misfortune 
happened  to  the  family  I  was  able  to  find  words  of 
comfort  for  my  godmother;  but  to-day  it  seems  that  I 
myself  need  to  be  consoled.  God  has  given  me  Elvire 
to  weep  with  me,  to  speak  to  me  of  your  courage,  your 
resignation,  and  your  love  for  Him.  He  has  given  us 
also  in  our  beloved  and  devoted  superior  a  model  of 
every  virtue  and  a  heart  that  understands  every  weak- 
ness. She  is  more  occupied  with  you  and  with  us  than 
with  her  own  sufferings,  which  are,  nevertheless,  very 
great.  Our  Lord  has  given  us  also  our  good  Father 
Corbe,  who  this  morning  said  Mass  for  his  dear  "stock- 
ing-knitter," as  he  called  her.  This  will  not  be  the  last 
time  he  offers  it  for  her;  he  will  continue  to  do  so  fre- 
quently, as  he  was  accustomed  to  do  during  her  life. 
Then,  too,  on  Thursday  all  the  Sisters  will  offer  their 

371 


372  DEATH  OF  IRMA'S  GODMOTHER 

Communion  for  my  dear  aunt.  I  hope  she  is  praying 
for  us;  but,  as  my  father  said,  "We  must  pray  for  all; 
if  our  prayer  is  not  of  service  to  one,  it  will  benefit 
others."  I  am  glad  my  loved  godmother  was  spared 
the  last  agony.  She  who  was  so  fearful,  who  always 
had  the  Quando  judex  on  her  lips,  was  awakened  by  the 
harmonious  canticles  of  angels !  Ah !  beloved  aunt,  why 
were  you  so  fearful  of  your  future  happiness?  .  .  . 

My  cousins  have  a  large  share  in  my  affection,  but  I 
shall  not  speak  of  them  now,  nor  even  think  of  them. 
To-day  I  have  a  severe  headache,  and  I  promised  Mother 
Theodore  not  to  weep.  Let  us  instead  talk  of  our 
Holy  Father,  Pius  IX.  Imagine  the  joy  with  which  we 
read  in  the  letter  from  my  cousin,  Henri  de  la  Motte, 
the  holy  pontiff's  words:  "You  belong  to  a  good  stock; 
I  bless  your  saintly  family."  Well,  then,  I  said  to  my- 
self, if  the  Holy  Father  himself  has  said  so,  surely  God 
will  not  be  displeased  if  we  praise  ourselves  a  little. 
Our  good  grandmother  would  not  have  had  contrition 
for  her  faults,  if  she  had  heard  Henri's  letter. 

I  remember  one  day  while  I  was  dressing,  my  grand- 
mother was  seated  in  her  armchair  near  the  table.  She 
said  to  me,  "Abbe  Sauvage  is  coming;  help  me,  my  little 
daughter,  to  make  my  examination  of  conscience.  I 
cannot  find  anything."  I  replied:  "During  your 
prayers  you  have  wondered  whether  the  cook  would  be 
able  to  find  fish  for  the  Friday  dinner,  and,  in  case  not, 
what  you  would  serve  in  its  place."  "That  is  true,"  she 
said;  "and  then?"  "You  have  boasted  of  your  children 
and  your  grandchildren."  "They  are  so  good!"  she 
sighed.  "And  then,  my  child?"  "What,  grandmother, 
would  you  have  more?  Excite  yourself  to  contrition 
now,  with  all  your  heart,  and  go  quickly  to  the  chapel." 
I  was  at  the  end  of  my  knowledge,  and  I  believed  I  had 
found  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  my  dearly  loved  grand- 
mother's faults.  Happy  would  it  be  for  us,  had  we  as 
little  with  which  to  reproach  ourselves.  O  my  dear 
aunt,  when  shall  we  be  with  our  cherished  family  in 
heaven? 


CONSOLATION  FOR  EUGENIE  373 

To  HER  SISTEE  EUGENIE 

April,  1854. 

I  condole  with  you  on  the  loss  of  our  excellent  Aunt 
Marie.  How  lovable  she  was  and  how  devoted  to  us! 
I  can  hear  you  say,  "Alone  among  strangers!  Who 
will  take  the  place  of  these  dear  departed  ones  ?"  Jesus, 
our  Father,  will  take  their  place,  He  who  has  been  with 
us  from  our  birth  to  the  present  hour;  He  who  knew 
all  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  our  childhood;  He  who  has 
so  often  consoled  us,  who  loves  us  so  dearly,  who  will 
be  with  us  to  encourage  us  at  the  hour  of  death.  Nemo 
tarn  pater,  as  Saint  Augustine  says.  How  good  it  is 
to  have  Him;  how  sweet  to  be  going  to  Him!  The 
world  passes  away,  but  Jesus  remains.  Tell  Cecile  He 
will  stay  until  the  very  last,  and  when  the  twelfth  of  us 
shall  think  himself  alone,  Our  Lord  will  be  with  him. 
One  takes  the  cars  in  the  evening,  the  other  the  following 
morning;  but  this  matters  little,  provided  only  that  at 
the  end  of  the  journey  we  find  ourselves  together. 

How  I  pity  the  unfortunate  Lamennais!  What  a 
contrast  between  him  and  my  father!  I  am  disgusted 
with  wit  and  science,  and  above  all  with  pride.  I  bury 
myself  in  my  littleness,  my  misery,  my  incapacity.  I 
wrap  myself  up  in  my  awkwardness.  Pray  that  I  may 
keep  myself  in  this  blessed  mantle.  All !  vanity  of  vani- 
ties, all  is  vanity  except  to  love  God . 

You  tell  me  your  soul  is  in  a  drought,  in  a  desert  with- 
out water.  I  know  this  condition  of  the  soul  more  by 
what  others  say  than  by  my  own  experience,  for  God 
treats  me  as  a  spoiled  child  whom  He  wishes  to  draw  to 
Himself  by  little  gifts.  The  mere  description  of  your 
desolation  and  darkness  is  sufficient  to  make  my  nature 
cry  aloud.  Saint  Francis  de  Sales  has  some  excellent 
things  on  this  subject.  I  remember  that  when  I  read 
what  he  says  of  the  advantages  of  this  state  I  almost 
desired  to  pass  through  it,  for  in  this  deprivation  the  soul 
serves  God  for  Himself  alone. 

Let  us  place  our  souls  in  the  hands  of  our  dear 
Heavenly  Father,  asking  Him  to  do  with  us  as  He 


374  LETTER  TO  MME.  DE  LA  SALLE 

pleases;  and  let  us  peacefully  steer  our  course  with  the 
help  of  our  book,  when  the  wind  is  wanting  to  swell  the 
sails  of  our  understanding.  My  dear  Eugenie,  I  beg 
you  not  to  be  sad.  It  is  good  for  us  to  be  annihilated 
in  our  own  eyes.  I  shall  pray  for  you  with  all  my  heart. 
Prayer  is  the  great  remedy;  all  others  are  merely  like 

the  barley-tea  prescribed  by  Dr.  L .     They  do  no 

harm,  but  they  effect  very  little  good. 

To  MADAME  DE  LA  SALLE 

May  2,  1854. 

My  dearly  loved  Aunt:  I  have  collected  here  and 
there  a  number  of  anecdotes  to  tell  you,  and  now  that  I 
have  come  to  have  a  chat,  the  first  thing  I  shall  say  is, 
Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your  dear  letter.  I 
know  well  you  always  love  us  (it  would  be  very  cruel 
not  to  do  so)  ;  nevertheless,  a  little  word  from  our  only 
surviving  aunt  does  the  heart  good. 

Now  you  know  you  have  to  make  up  for  the  love  of 
the  other  three.  No  one  will  take  my  cherished  god- 
mother's place,  but  we  shall  soon  meet  again;  for  that 
reason  I  am  tranquil  enough  regarding  those  who  are 
gone.  I  pray  more  for  our  boys ,  because  to  them  time 
is  more  than  eternity,  and  everything  in  this  world  ap- 
pears very  important.  Poor  children!  if  they  had  re- 
ceived the  graces  given  to  me  they  would  be  better  than 
I  am;  for  the  worst  thing  is  to  know  the  greatness  of 
God,  the  nothingness  of  all  that  passes  with  time,  and 
yet  to  live  as  it  were  forgetful  of  all  this. 

I  must  not  however  disedify  you  and  leave  you  with- 
out hope  for  the  conversion  of  your  niece.  It  seems  to 
me  that  since  Christmas  I  am  a  little  more  rational  about 
the  death  of  those  I  love.  I  have  a  dear  little  novice 
who  is  charming  and  on  whom  I  had  founded  much 
hope ;  she  is  dying  under  my  eyes,  yet  I  scarcely  say  one 
word  to  God  to  retain  her.  She  is  so  pure,  so  innocent, 
so  well  prepared.  Each  morning  I  think  she  will  not 
last  until  evening;  but  the  evening  finds  her  still  alive, 
and  so  does  the  next  morning.  Twelve  days  ago  she 


DEATH  OF  SISTER  JOSEPHINE  375 

received  Extreme  Unction.  How  good  it  is  to  have 
given  up  all  before  death  separates  us  from  those  dear 
to  us!  I  remember  something  dear  Aunt  Jeanne  said 
to  me  when  she  heard  that  I  wished  to  come  to  America : 
— "My  poor  child,  how  happy  you  will  be  at  the  hour  of 
death  to  have  only  your  body  to  leave!"  How  well  she 
understood  the  religious  vocation !  She  had  truly  given 
all  to  God  and  she  had  made  a  sacrifice  which  I  have  not 
yet  achieved:  she  had  immolated  her  pride.  My  Aunt 
Jeanne  was,  to  my  mind,  the  personification  of  humility 
and  of  a  life  hidden  in  God.  I  often  propose  her  as  a 
model  to  my  novices ;  better,  indeed,  would  it  be  if  their 
mistress  could  be  a  living  copy  for  them. 

At  present  we  have  in  our  vicinity  some  dear  emi- 
grants who  are  finishing  the  railroad  between  here  and 
Terre  Haute.  We  can  now  make  the  distance  of  four 
miles  in  ten  minutes.  If  you  could  only  see  how  much 
the  appearance  of  our  forest  has  changed  within  twelve 
years!  Souls,  I  hope,  have  been  even  more  improved, 
yet  there  is  still  much  ignorance  to  be  dispelled. 

May  16. 

Our  dear  little  Sister  Josephine  is  dead.  Fragrant 
flower  of  spring,  she  exhaled  all  the  perfume  of  her  love 
in  the  bosom  of  her  beloved  Jesus  who  was  her  all. 
She  was  as  beautiful  as  the  angels  are  painted,  and  as 
pure  as  our  dear  Sister  Seraphine.  One  day  Mother 
Theodore  said  to  her,  "Do  not  trouble  yourself  about 
your  vocal  prayers;  say  only  from  time  to  time  to  our 
Lord,  'My  God,  I  love  you !' '  "Ah !"  she  said,  smiling, 
"He  has  known  that  for  a  long  time."  He  did  know 
it,  and  she  could  say  with  David,  What  do  I  desire  in 
heaven  or  on  earth,  if  not  you,  O  God  of  my  heart? 
Poor  Father  Corbe  grieves  as  much  as  I  do  over  the 
loss  of  our  dear  child ;  we  thought  he  would  not  be  able 
to  finish  the  prayers  at  her  burial.  Fortunately  good 
Father  *  Michel  came  to  his  aid ;  his  voice  never  failed 
even  at  the  requiem  of  his  wife ;  he  is  a  very  good  man, 
but  his  feelings  have  no  effect  on  his  voice. 

i  So  called  by  all  the  Sisters,  because  he  was  the  father  of  three  in  the 
community. 


376  LETTER  TO  MARTHA  BRETT 

To  Miss  Martha  Brett,  one  of  her  former  pupils  who 
had  disclosed  to  her  her  desire  of  being  a  religious,  Irma 
wrote : 

Dear  Martha,  as  I  had  been  uneasy  about  you,  I  was 
very  happy  to  receive  your  letter.  Do  not  make  ex- 
cuses for  your  style;  I  am  always  pleased  with  what 
comes  from  the  heart,  but  I  will  permit  you  to  explain 
your  laziness,  as  I  accuse  it  very  strongly  of  being  the 
cause  of  your  silence. 

I  showed  your  letter  to  Mother  Theodore,  for  it  is 
from  her  I  derive  my  clearest  light,  although  she  knows 
you  less  than  I  do.  I  pray  for  you  and  for  your 
brother.  Be  courageous  and  hope  in  the  goodness  of 
God.  Perhaps,  though,  God  will  make  you  pay  for  his 
conversion  by  sacrifice,  or  rather  He  will  have  you  buy 
it  with  tears.  Heaven  is  worth  all  our  sufferings,  and 
when  we  arrive  there,  we  shall  think  that  even  an  entire 
life  of  privations  bears  no  proportion  to  the  immensity 
of  eternal  happiness. 

I  am  glad  you  do  not  speak  of  your  intentions  to  any 
one;  a  secret  that  God  keeps  is  well  kept.  Confide  in 
that  faithful  Friend,  and  ask  Him  for  light,  and,  above 
all,  for  strength,  and  begin  to  act  purely  for  Him. 
Sister  Saint  Charles  told  me  that  she  had  received  a 
letter  from  you;  she  added  that  you  are  a  mystery  to 
her.  I  did  not  betray  your  confidence  nor  make  any 
allusion  to  it.  It  is  not  astonishing  that  she  suspects 
nothing.  I  am  sure  she  would  pray  fervently  for  you, 
if  she  had  the  least  idea  of  your  intentions,  or  knew  the 
contents  of  your  letter  and  your  beautiful  hopes. 

So  they  tell  you  there  are  thorns  under  the  roses  at 
Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods.  Do  you  think  I  am  going 
to  deceive  you?  No;  I  tell  you  what  I  tell  the  postu- 
lants:— the  thorns  are  those  belonging  to  the  crown  of 
our  Lord,  our  King ;  but  they  have  been  so  deeply  driven 
into  His  adorable  Head  that  the  points  are  dulled.  Do 
not  fear  them;  for  if  they  wound,  they  heal  at  once  by 
virtue  of  the  Precious  Blood  which  stains  them. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

NEW    CONVENT   CHAPEL — DOGMA   OF   THE   IMMACULATE 

CONCEPTION    PROCLAIMED JOY   AT   SAINT 

MARY-OF-THE-WOODS 

THANKS  to  the  goodness  of  God,  the  pecuniary 
resources  of  the  community  in  1852  justified  the 
Sisters  in  replacing,  by  an  attractive  brick  build- 
ing, the  small  chapel  with  which  they  had  thus  far  been 
obliged  to  content  themselves.     In  a  letter  to  Pepa, 
Irma  described  the  ceremony  of  blessing,  which  took 
place  in  August,  1853: 

Yesterday  the  statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  was 
carried  in  triumph  to  our  new  chapel.1  Oh!  if  you 
could  have  seen  it  encircled  by  branches  of  lilies.  Our 
Lady  appeared  truly  happy  to  return  to  us  again.2 
The  Sisters  were  much  affected  at  the  sight  of  our  richly 
ornamented  altar  and  of  the  beautiful  exposition3  of 
white  flowers.  The  chapel  has  been  blessed  under  the 
invocation  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  Saint  Joseph. 
For  four  days  we  were  without  the  Blessed  Sacrament; 
our  former  chapel  was  desolate,  the  tabernacle  was 
taken  away,  and  we  were  like  spirits  wandering  from 
place  to  place  without  knowing  where  to  rest.  But 
yesterday,  when  the  bishop  pronounced  the  words  of 
consecration,  our  dear  Lord  came  to  dwell  in  His  new 
habitation.  How  we  wept!  He  has  followed  us  in  all 
our  vicissitudes,  our  cabin  and  our  frame  house.  Now 

1  The  new  chapel  was  a  large  room,  afterwards  the  refectory,  in  the  new 
convent  building. 

2  Their  statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  had  been  in  the  village  church  for 
many  years. 

a  A  kind  of  baldachlno  made  of  net  and  flowers. 

377 


378         BLESSING  OF  PROVIDENCE  CHAPEL 

He  resides  in  a  beautiful  brick  house,  but  without  Him 
how  dreary  it  would  be  1  Dear  Pepa,  you  cannot  under- 
stand our  joy.  As  for  me,  I  was  overcome,  and  the 
bishop  and  Father  Corbe  were  much  affected.  Abbe 
Audran  was  so  excited  that  he  had  an  attack  of  fever. 
Ah!  such  as  he  and  ourselves,  children  of  misery  and 
distress,  are  able  to  appreciate  this  happiness. 

Mother  Theodore's  joy  was  so  great  that  she  was  con- 
stantly afraid  she  was  going  to  say  her  Nunc  dimittis. 
We  have  been  comparing  the  past  with  the  present. 
Twelve  years  ago  a  little  plank  covered  with  a  piece  of 
soiled  blue  calico,  supported  the  Sacred  Host  in  a  totter- 
ing cabin.  O  my  Jesus!  how  good,  how  good  you  are! 
But  how  fortunate  are  we  to  afford  You  a  better  lodg- 
ing! Abbe  Collet's  beautiful  candlesticks  were  on  the 
altar  near  Natalia's  vases,  which  were  filled  with  Easter 
daisies  from  Cecile  and  Joseph.  The  alb  and  chasuble 
were  given  by  Alphonse;  Sister  Mary  Joseph  had  the 
privilege  of  lining  the  tabernacle;  she  will  tell  mother 
what  other  things  she  did.  I  painted  on  the  tabernacle 
of  the  old  chapel  a  heart  near  the  lock,  and  another  on 
the  little  column ;  one  was  my  mother's,  the  other  mine. 
Indeed,  all  our  hearts  are  deeply  imprinted  in  the  Heart 
of  Jesus.  My  mother  surely  must  receive  the  favors 
asked  for  her  here.  Our  seven  Sisters  of  the  laundry 
made  a  novena  for  her,  and  during  that  time  candles 
burned  before  the  statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  which 
Monsieur  Dupont  gave  us. 

There  are  true  saints  among  these  excellent  lay  Sis- 
ters ;  they  work  like  men  and  pray  like  angels.  I  must 
tell  you  the  great  consolation  one  of  them  had  at 
Christmas.  Mother  Theodore  told  her  she  might  assist 
in  taking  care  of  the  cows.  "O  Mother !"  she  said,  "for 
a  whole  year  I  have  asked  this  favor  of  our  Divine  Lord. 
I  longed  to  be  in  the  stable  because  Jesus  was  born 
there,  and  now,  on  Christmas  Day,  He  grants  me  this 
desire !" 

In  1854  the  Sisters  at  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods,  like 
the  Catholics  throughout  the  world,  awaited  with  re- 


DOGMA  OF  THE  IMMACULATE  CONCEPTION      379 

spectful  impatience  the  decision  of  the  Church  upon  the 
dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Conception.  In  her  letters 
of  this  period,  Irma  speaks  often  of  Mary  Immaculate, 
the  thought  of  whom  was  always  with  her.  Thus  in 
writing  to  Abbe  Dupontavice  and  speaking  of  her 
brother  Alphonse,  who  had  been  his  fellow-student  at  the 
Seminary  of  Rennes,  she  said: 

Your  little  abbe  is  very  lazy,  but  he  has,  for  all  that, 
many  good  qualities.  His  heart  must  beat  with  joy  at 
the  thought  of  what  is  occurring  at  Rome.  He  told  me 
in  one  of  his  letters,  "If  I  do  not  love  the  Blessed  Virgin 
as  much  as  I  would  wish  to,  she  knows  well  that  I  love 
her  as  much  as  my  miserable  heart  is  capable  of  loving." 
He  never  lets  me  ask  for  him  any  gift  of  God  except  a 
tender  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin.  "I  shall  arrange 
matters  with  her,"  he  said  to  me»  "Have  no  fear;  who- 
ever invokes  her  till  the  end  of  his  life  will  never  perish." 

On  the  10th  of  December,  1854,  Irma  wrote  to  her 
mother : 

To-day  we  are  celebrating  the  beautiful  feast  of  our 
Immaculate  Mother.  Oh!  how  happy  I  am  to  be  still 
alive,  for  this  year  the  truth  which  is  so  dear  to  my  heart 
shall  become  obligatory  upon  the  whole  Catholic  world. 
We  prayed  much  for  you  all  Friday,  December  eighth, 
and  we  are  doing  the  same  to-day.  It  seems  Our  Lord 
is  so  happy  that  He  will  grant  everything  to  those  who 
invoke  Him  through  His  Mother  and  by  His  Mother. 
To  pray  for  the  Blessed  Virgin!  This  is  a  favor  that 
was  reserved  for  us.  Since  the  Council  of  £phesus 
Christians  have  not  had  to  pray  for  the  honor  of  their 
Mother.  Elvire  and  I  remarked  this  while  working  at 
our  white  flowers. 

At  last,  on  January  14  [1855],  the  grand  and  happy 
news  of  the  Holy  Father's  declaration  reached  Saint 


380  IRMA'S  BROTHER,  ABBE  LE  FER 

Mary-of- the- Woods.     Irma  expressed  her  joy  and  hap- 
piness in  the  following  letter: 

To  HER  SISTER  EUGENIE 

Feast  of  the  Holy  Name  of  Jesus,  Jan.  14,  1855. 

"Mary  conceived  without  sin!" 

Eugenie,  you  shall  be  the  first  to  whom  I  shall  say, 
"Let  us  rejoice!"  Mary,  Mary  our  Mother,  has  at  last 
obtained  the  title,  a  thousand  times  desired,  "Mary  con- 
ceived without  sin!"  O  Mary!  I  return  thanks  to  you 
because  of  your  glory.  To-day  we  learned  the  happy 
tidings ;  the  angels  and  saints  knew  it  long  ago,  and  you 
also  knew  it.  But  we  are  so  far  away.  The  Holy 
Name  of  Jesus  brought  us  this  precious  message, 
Mary  and  Jesus !  How  good  it  is  to  love  them !  And 
how  happy  our  good  father,  Saint  Joseph,  must  be! 
We  are  going  to  salute  Saint  Anne,  for  it  is  certainly 
a  great  honor  for  her  too.  My  dear  Eugenie,  how 
happy  you  must  have  been,  more  than  happy,  even 
proud!  Indeed,  I  feel  proud  to  the  very  depths  of  my 
soul.  Our  own  Mother  is  pronounced  immaculate. 
She  was  conceived  without  sin.  O  sweet  article  of  our 
faith!  shall  we  not  be  recompensed  for  believing  in 
thee? — No,  no,  my  God,  no  other  recompense  than  our 
present  happiness.  Let  us  thank  You,  but  do  not  pay 
us. 

Yesterday  Father  Corbe  read  in  the  Univers  the  tele- 
graphic dispatch,  but  the  mischievous  Father  kept  it 
secret.  I  declare  I  should  never  have  been  able  to  imi- 
tate his  discretion.  This  morning  at  Mass,  after 
preaching  on  the  Gospel  of  the  day  and  commenting  on 
the  first  miracle  of  Jesus,  made  at  the  intercession  of 
His  Mother,  of  Mary  watching  over  the  least  interests 
of  her  children,  Father  Corbe  announced  that  this  divine 
Mother  had  been  proclaimed  immaculate  by  the  Church. 
I  was  not  present,  but  a  postulant  ran  with  all  her  speed 
to  tell  me.  Elvire  was  the  second  with  the  news.  I 
kissed  them  both.  How  happy  Mother  Theodore  is! 
If  you  could  know  what  a  peal  she  gave  our  bell!  All 


CELEBRATIONS  AT  ST.  MARY'S  381 

the  Sisters  except  myself  hastened  to  the  chapel.  Then 
the  Te  Deum,  the  organ,  the  voices  of  all  our  Sisters! 
Besides  the  statue  in  the  chapel,  every  image  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin  is  ornamented,  from  "Our  Lady  of  the 
Valley"  to  the  statue  in  the  kitchen — everywhere  tapers, 
flowers,  and  garlands.  Then  the  postulants  went  sing- 
ing hymns  from  place  to  place,  wherever  there  was  a 
representation  of  Our  Lady.  General  recreation  was 
given  and — at  dinner  they  will  talk. 

Sister  Mary  Theodore,  Mother  Theodore's  niece,  who 
lately  arrived  at  Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods,  entered  my 
room  and  pressed  my  hand,  tears  flowing  from  her  eyes 
all  the  while.  She  was  trembling  so  much  that  I  told 
her  she  must  warm  herself.  "I  am  not  cold,"  was  her 
answer.  "How  did  it  happen,"  said  Elvire  to  her,  "that 
you  understood  what  Father  Corbe  said? — he  spoke  in 
English."  "Why,"  she  replied  with  vivacity,  "does 
news  like  this  have  to  be  told  in  words?  I  heard  noth- 
ing, but  I  understood  all."  She  was  so  overcome  by  this 
heavenly  news  that  she  thought  she  would  faint  in  the 
church.  The  English  the  Blessed  Virgin  translates  is 
the  most  expressive.  Sister  Mary  Theodore  will  be  a 
worthy  niece  of  Mother  Theodore,  a  true  daughter  of 
Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods,  a  Sister  of  Providence. 

Our  Mother  has  gone  with  some  of  the  Sisters  to  pay 
a  visit  of  congratulation  to  Father  Corbe.  It  is  well 
I  do  not  form  a  part  of  the  embassy,  for  I  would  scold 
him  for  not  telling  his  secret  yesterday.  No,  after  all, 
I  could  not  do  it  to-day;  to-day  I  pardon  everything. 
The  Academy  Sisters  are  coming  from  all  directions. 
Some  are  laughing,  some  crying,  and  some  embracing 
each  other.  People  are  glad  to  be  alive  on  such  an  oc- 
casion, though  they  would  be  happy  to  die.  They  pour 
out  their  joy  and  still  preserve  it  in  their  hearts. 

At  last  I  am  permitted  to  go  to  the  chapel.  For  five 
weeks  I  had  been  deprived  of  a  sight  of  the  altar,  but 
not  of  the  God  of  the  altar,  for  the  good  Savior  has  been 
twice  to  visit  me.  When  I  entered  the  chapel  they 
were  singing  the  Magnificat.  At  the  words,  All  gene- 
rations shall  call  me  blessed,  my  heart  was  moved  so 


382  CELEBRATIONS  AT  ST.  MARY'S 

deeply  that  I  sobbed  aloud.  I  had  intended  to  pray  so 
fervently  for  you,  for  all  our  benefactors,  and  for  our 
friends  of  the  Univers,  well,  I  could  not  say  a  word. 
When  I  raised  my  eyes,  I  saw  the  Blessed  Sacrament 
exposed  in  our  beautiful  ostensorium,  and  above  it  the 
sweet  image  of  our  Immaculate  Mother.  This  blessed 
statue,  before  which  we  have  obtained  so  many  graces, 
was  surrounded  with  lights  and  flowers.  The  altar  was 
luminous.  The  voices  of  our  Sisters  were  doubtless 
aided  by  our  friends  in  heaven,  for  never  before  did  they 
sing  so  well.  Much  as  I  wished  to  pray,  I  could  only 
shed  tears  during  Benediction,  and  still  more  at  the  Te 
Deum,  which  Father  Corbe  sang  with  all  his  heart. 

I  must  say  something  now  of  the  feast  of  the  eighth 
of  December.  No  doubt  you  suppose  it  was  a  good  day 
for  us,  but  you  are  mistaken,  unless,  indeed,  you  under- 
stand by  a  good  day  a  day  full  of  contradictions,  temp- 
tations, and  vexations  of  every  kind.  The  demon, 
whose  head  was  crushed  at  Rome,  stirred  up  our  whole 
community  with  his  tail.  We  cannot  remember  his 
having  ever  before  made  so  many  efforts  to  prevent  us 
from  feasting  our  Blessed  Mother.  The  more  our  Sis- 
ters tried  to  sing,  the  worse  they  sang.  The  acolyte 
who  was  to  serve  Father  Corbe  did  not  arrive  until  after 
the  Gospel.  Father  Corbe  himself,  who  had  promised 
to  give  the  scapular,  forgot  to  bring  his  book  contain- 
ing the  prayers  for  the  blessing.  The  tapers  would  not 
be  lighted,  or,  after  being  lit,  they  would  go  out.  It 
was  with  difficulty  we  were  able  to  make  our  blue  and 
white  flowers  for  the  church,  etc.  But,  fortunately, 
evening  came  at  last,  and  when  Elvire  entered  my  room, 
I  asked  her  what  she  thought  of  the  day.  "It  was  hor- 
rible 1"  she  said.  I  put  the  same  question  to  Mother 
Theodore,  and  she  made  the  same  answer.  We 
laughed,  though  tears  of  weariness  were  in  our  eyes. 
The  devil  howled  in  our  forest,  he  roared  with  rage. 
We  wondered  what  was  being  done  against  him,  and 
thought  that  perhaps  he  had  been  humiliated  at  Rome, 
and  was  taking  vengeance  upon  us. 

On  the  evening  of  the  8th  of  December  I  said  to 


CELEBRATIONS  AT  ST.  MARY'S  383 

Elvire:  I  would  like  to  know  how  our  Holy  Father 
has  passed  this  day — whether  the  demon  has  tormented 
him,  or  whether  he  has  tormented  the  demon.  When 
later  I  heard  of  the  declaration  of  the  Immaculate  Con- 
ception, I  almost  pardoned  the  poor  devil  all  the  mis- 
chief he  had  done  us,  for  he  surely  had  suffered  much 
on  that  day.  Certainly  he  will  never  forget  the  8th  of 
December,  1854. 

To  her  brother,  the  abbe,  she  added : 

What  joy,  what  admirable  concert!  Do  you  hear 
the  voice  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ?  It  rises  from  earth 
to  heaven,  singing  the  solo  of  our  hymn  of  thanksgiving, 
while  the  Church  militant,  united  with  the  Church  trium- 
phant, repeats  the  chorus  in  perfect  harmony. 

To  HEE  COUSINS,  MADAME  LE  FEE  DE  CHANTELOTJ 
AND  MADAME  DES  COGNETS 

[1853  or  1854.] 

Elvire  and  I  are  amused  at  the  great  trouble  which 
people  take  in  giving  a  dinner  or  in  discharging  the  im- 
portant business  of  buying  a  dress  or  a  bonnet,  and  we 
say,  That  is  the  way  of  the  world ;  we  did  the  same  our- 
selves when  we  were  in  it. 

People  here  are  astonished  at  the  peculiar  sentiments 
of  our  Irish  people,  which  are,  nevertheless,  more  con- 
formable to  faith  than  ours  are.  We  have  perhaps  two 
hundred  families  near  us  constructing  a  railroad.  They 
are  delighted  when  their  relatives  die  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  a  church.  "I  was  afraid,"  said  one  young  man, 
"that  my  father  would  not  die  this  week.  Had  he  lived 
longer  he  could  not  have  had  the  priest  nor  have  been 
buried  in  consecrated  ground."  Once,  when  Father 
Corbe  had  given  Extreme  Unction  to  a  sick  man  and 
was  leaving  the  hut,  he  was  surrounded  by  a  number  of 
Irishmen,  who  said  to  him:  "Surely  the  happiest  of  all 
our  band  is  the  one  you  have  just  anointed.  What  a 
good  chance  he  has  of  going  to  heaven!  And  how  lucky 


384  THE  TENTH  MISSION  FOUNDED 

he  is!  If  he  had  died  when  we  were  sixty  or  eighty 
miles  from  here,  he  could  not  have  had  the  priest." 

The  other  day  Sister  Olympiade  heard  an  Irishwoman 
say  to  her  companion,  who  had  just  lost  her  child,  "Why 
are  you  crying?  Was  not  your  child  baptized?" 
"Yes,  it  was,  and  now  it  is  an  angel  in  heaven." 
"Well,"  rejoined  the  first  woman,  "to  enter  heaven  you 
must  be  an  angel,  too,  or  a  saint,  which  will  be  more  dif- 
ficult for  you  than  for  it.  Be  satisfied  that  it  died  when 
it  can  so  easily  go  to  God."  These  simple  words  suf- 
ficed to  make  the  poor  mother  perfectly  resigned. 
Despite  their  faults,  I  love  these  good  people  very 
much ;  they  are  little  attached  to  the  things  of  earth,  and 
they  have  the  greatest  respect  for  priests.  Many  of 
them  have  so  great  confidence  in  God  that  they  obtain 
extraordinary  favors.  A  few  weeks  ago  our  chaplain 
was  called  to  see  a  sick  man  some  miles  from  here. 
Taking  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  he  started,  and,  after 
having  missed  his  way,  he  at  last  found  in  a  deep  soli- 
tude, a  miserable  cabin  six  miles  from  any  other  habita- 
tion. There  on  the  ground  was  a  poor  Irishman,  sur- 
rounded by  five  or  six  little  children.  On  seeing  the 
priest,  he  exclaimed,  "Did  I  not  tell  you  I  should  not 
die  without  confession!  I  was  sure  my  God  would  come 
to  visit  me  I"  If  we  were  only  as  sure  as  this  poor  man 
of  the  goodness  of  Jesus,  He  would  cross  the  desert  to 
unite  Himself  with  us  in  our  sufferings. 

Last  Sunday  Father  Corbe,  when  giving  us  an  in- 
struction on  Extreme  Unction,  told  us  he  had  no  doubt 
that  those  who  received  this  Sacrament  with  the  same 
faith  as  these  Irish  people  would  unquestionably  be 
saved.  He  added  that  when  they  died  shortly  after  re- 
ceiving the  indulgence  for  a  good  death  it  was  his  opin- 
ion that  they  went  immediately  to  heaven,  so  great  was 
their  confidence  in  the  efficacy  of  the  Last  Sacraments. 

We  have  just  established  our  tenth  mission  in  Indiana. 
Mother  Theodore,  who  accompanied  our  Sisters,  says 
the  poor  people  wept  for  joy.  It  was  the  first  time 
religious  had  been  seen  at  Lanesville.  Our  Academy 
numbers  many  pupils,  but  our  Sisters  are  very  few. 


A  REMARKABLE  CONVERSION  385 

The  pupils  generally  behave  very  well.  I  had  the  pleas- 
ure lately  of  preparing  one  of  them,  eighteen  years  old, 
for  baptism.  Her  father,  a  Protestant  minister,  had 
inspired  her  with  profound  hatred  of  the  Catholic  re- 
ligion. Feeling  perfectly  assured  of  her  sentiments,  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  send  her  to  Saint  Mary-of-the- 
Woods.  During  the  first  few  months  of  her  sojourn 
here,  she  corresponded  perfectly  with  her  father's  views. 
She  could  not  hear  a  sermon  without  becoming  angry; 
she  scorned  all  the  ceremonies  of  religion,  and  had 
special  contempt  for  the  Blessed  Sacrament  of  the 
Eucharist.  One  day  after  Mass  she  paid  a  visit  to  our 
chaplain,  and  said  to  him,  "Do  you  suppose  I  would  go 
on  my  knees  to  receive  one  of  your  wafers?" 

O  my  God,  how  good  You  are,  and  how  merciful  is 
Your  vengeance!  Not  only  did  this  proud  girl  kneel 
and  weep  before  our  altar,  but  she  has  broken  the  chains 
that  bound  her  heart  to  the  world  and  she  is  determined 
to  become  a  religious.  She  is  to  be  commended  for  her 
assiduity  in  coming  for  catechism.  She  has  already 
suffered  for  the  faith,  since  her  companions,  seeing  her 
so  changed,  accuse  her  of  acting  in  this  way  in  order  to 
gain  the  favor  of  the  Sisters.  Remember  her  in  your 
prayers,  for,  if  she  perseveres,  she  will  be  able  to  do 
much  good.  You  know  how  happy  parents  are  in 
France  on  the  day  of  their  children's  First  Communion ; 
and  think  of  it,  yesterday  not  one  parent  was  here,  not 
even  a  friend.  Alas !  it  was  into  our  arms  the  little  girls 
had  to  throw  themselves.  One  of  them  said  to  me, 
"Since  my  baptism  it  seems  to  me  I  am  no  longer  my- 
self; I  feel  as  if  I  had  passed  into  the  body  of  another 
person." 

Poor  Almeria  Drake  cannot  obtain  from  her  father 
permission  to  be  baptized.  She  cried  all  during  Mass, 
as  also  did  a  little  Catholic  child  named  Isabelle,  who 
was  too  young  to  make  her  First  Communion.  The 
poor  little  child  sought  comfort  in  what  to  another  would 
have  been  a  punishment.  She  waited  in  the  chapel  for 
more  than  an  hour  to  go  to  confession.  "At  least,"  she 
said,  "I  can  do  something  for  my  companions.  AJ1  the 


386          FIRST  COMMUNION  AT  ST.  MARY'S 

older  pupils  have  offered  a  Communion  for  them,  and  I 
shall  offer  a  confession."  I  spent  the  evening  with  the 
newly-baptized  in  the  garden,  where  there  is  a  pond. 
The  ducks  were  swimming  about  in  the  water.  "O 
Sister!"  said  one  of  the  neophytes,  "don't  the  ducks  and 
geese  look  happier  to-day  than  yesterday?  The  birds, 
too,  sing  more  gayly  this  evening  than  ever  before." 
How  everything  seemed  to  smile  on  them!  Never  be- 
fore had  the  flowers  appeared  so  beautiful.  Oh!  but  a 
day  like  yesterday  does  one  good!  I  shed  many  tears, 
but  they  were  tears  of  joy. 

Will  you,  my  dear  friends,  assure  my  cousin  Leonce 
of  my  cordial  affection?  My  sisters  often  speak  of  him. 
He  not  only  adorns  the  garden  of  Rosais — thanks  to  his 
exquisite  taste — but  he  also  smooths  the  path  of  virtue 
for  our  young  people,  because  he  shows  by  his  example 
that  one  can  be  joyous  and  at  the  same  time  a  fervent 
Christian. 

I  thank  you  for  the  seeds  you  sent  me;  they  seem  to 
like  the  American  soil  very  much,  and  they  obey  the 
command  given  on  the  third  day  of  creation,  "Increase 
and  multiply."  Father  Michel *  is  delighted  to  have 
French  flowers. 

To  HER  MOTHER 

Saint  Mary-of-the-Woods,  Aug.  16,  1855. 
How  much  good  your  sweet  and  pious  letter  did  us! 
I  say  us,  for  our  dear  Mother  Theodore  read  it  and  I 

i  This  Father  Michel  was  an  excellent  man,  a  chorister  of  the  community, 
and  a  humble  and  faithful  friend  of  the  Sisters  of  Providence.  In  the  begin- 
ning of  her  last  illness,  Sister  Saint  Francis  thought  of  him  and  sent  him  this 
message,  "Sister  Saint  Francis  offers  her  sufferings  for  you,  and  asks  that 
you  also  offer  some  little  thing  for  her."  Whether  it  was  the  effect  of  Irma's 
desire,  I  cannot  say,  but  certain  it  is  that  the  following  Sunday  the  poor 
man  lost  his  voice,  and,  to  his  great  disappointment,  he  was  unable  to  chant 
Vespers.  This  was  for  him  a  real  deprivation,  and  when  Sister  Mary  Joseph 
asked,  "Why  did  you  not  sing,  Father  Michel?  Was  it  because  our  Sisters 
intoned  badly?"  "Oh  no,"  he  replied,  "they  never  sang  better.  Sister 
M.  Ambrose  and  Sister  Seraphine  replaced  me  so  well  that  I  thought  there 
was  nothing  more  for  me  except  to  go  to  Paradise."  This  inspiration  was 
without  doubt  a  useful  warning  to  him,  for  he  died  piously  a  few  days  later, 
Sunday,  the  twenty-seventh  of  January,  the  same  day  on  which  Sister  Saint 
Francis  received  her  holy  Viaticum. 


THE  NEWLY-INVENTED  TELEGRAPH         387 

listened.  The  night  after  it  came  I  did  not  sleep  very 
much,  and  I  shed  tears  of  gratitude  and  love.  The 
next  morning  I  had  the  happiness  of  renewing  my  vows 
and  seeing  five  postulants  receive  the  Habit.  How  we 
pray  for  you  on  these  beautiful  days!  You  must  have 
felt  the  breeze  of  America;  I  hope  it  dried  your  tears. 
Truly,  dear  mother,  we  are  all  of  us  spoiled  children  of 
Providence,  and  it  is  a  great  pity  we  have  not  more 
courage  to  suffer  the  anxieties  of  life.  If  God  wishes 
the  absence  of  some  members  of  the  family,  where  is  the 
evil  ?  If  He  wishes  some  to  be  happy  where  He  is,  where 
is  the  evil?  You  know  well  that  the  only  real  evil  is 
when  our  dear  absent  ones  are  not  walking  in  the  right 
road ;  and  yet,  even  then,  we  must  not  lose  hope. 

We  often  receive  news  from  Europe  by  the  telegraph. 
In  the  United  States  we  have  electric  telegraph,  and  in 
less  than  half  an  hour  we  can  have  information  regard- 
ing what  has  happened  fifteen  hundred  miles  away. 
Any  one  who  pays  the  rate  of  two  cents  for  each  letter  of 
the  alphabet  used  in  his  message,  may  employ  this 
method  of  communication.  There  is  talk  of  having  a 
telegraph  which  shall  pass  through  the  ocean.  The 
other  day  I  thought  what  a  happy  invention  it  would 
be  if  a  bridge  could  be  made  to  extend  from  earth  to 
heaven.  But  on  reflection  I  recalled  that  Our  Lord 
Himself  has  made  such  a  bridge — the  Cross.  O  unique 
way!  Why  are  so  few  Christians  willing  to  travel  it? 
We  all  wish  to  go  to  heaven,  but  without  stirring,  with- 
out fatiguing  ourselves,  without  separation  from  one 
another,  hand-in-hand,  just  as  if  we  were  dancing  in  a 
ring.  But  since  the  road  is  too  narrow  to  be  traveled 
in  this  easy-going  manner,  we  must  be  ready  every  day 
to  have  some  one  or  other  separate  from  us.  See  how 
the  Talabardon  family  is  tried.  I  intend  asking  for 
you  perfect  abandonment;  but  you  must  pray  for  us 
also,  especially  for  Mother  Theodore.  Pray  for  her 
more  than  for  me,  because  what  is  given  to  the  sap  re- 
turns with  profit  to  all  the  branches. 

Last  evening  I  spoke  to  Elvire  of  the  desire  I  now 
have  that  you  would  make  your  purgatory  on  earth,  and 


888  BAPTISM  OF  ALMERIA  DRAKE 

I  said  to  her:  Should  we  ourselves  go  there,  it  would 
be  only  because  of  our  cowardice,  for  purgatory  was 
never  intended  for  religious.  God  has  drawn  us  from 
the  dangers  of  the  world,  and  since  He  gives  us  count- 
less means,  not  only  for  sanctification  but  also  for  the 
attainment  of  high  perfection,  it  would  be  a  great  shame 
if  we  did  not  go  straight  to  Paradise. 

I  shall  let  dear  Elvire  tell  you  the  baptism  of  her 
guitar  pupil,  Almeria  Drake.  Elvire  made  her  a  beau- 
tiful crown  which  aroused  the  envy  of  her  companions. 
Poor  Sister  Mary  Joseph  was  much  affected  during  the 
ceremony,  and  would  have  had  her  cry  all  out  in  peace, 
had  not  the  little  organist  pulled  her  Habit  to  make  her 
sing.  I  thanked  God  in  my  littleness  for  not  having 
made  me  as  full  of  talent  as  my  sister,  for  it  is  very 
troublesome  to  be  good  for  everything.  We  shall  soon 
have  two  more  baptisms. 

Both  Mother  Theodore  and  I  are  watchful  not  to 
show  exteriorly  too  much  affection  for  Elvire,  and  thus 
far,  all  is  well.  This  good  Mother  has  all  the  anxieties, 
all  the  tenderness,  I  should  even  say  all  the  weakness 
of  a  mother;  if  any  one  could  replace  a  mother,  it  is 
indeed  she.  Like  my  poor  father,  she  makes  acts  of 
resignation  for  things  that  never  happen.  She  is  very 
much  occupied  with  our  new  building;  God  has  given 
her  all  that  is  needed  to  edify.  The  best  financiers 
declare  that  she  surpasses  them  all  in  business,  matters. 
Our  community  is  free  from  debt.  I  still  have  the 
horror  of  debt  with  which  my  father  inspired  us,  though 
otherwise  I  have  not  an  inch  of  stuff  to  qualify  me  for 
an  administrator.  I  would  rather  be  a  beggar  woman. 

Adieu,  my  dearest  mother,  have  you  yet  found  that 
much-desired  time  for  prayer  and  meditation?  You 
used  to  say,  "When  my  children  have  grown  up";  and 
now  when  they  are  grown  up  God  sends  other  fatigues, 
other  trials,  in  order  to  detach  us  from  this  earth  which 
we  still  consider  ours.  You  know  well  I  have  never 
asked  God  to  grant  you  a  cloudless  voyage  through  life, 
but  a  happy  coming  into  port.  Ah!  when  we  have  all 
arrived,  what  joy  shall  be  ours!  Each  will  recount  his 


THE  GOVERNOR  AT  ST.  MARY'S  389 

trials,  and  all  will  thank  the  generous  Guide  who  helped 
us  to  surmount  them.  To  Him,  our  compassionate 
Jesus,  shall  be  the  glory;  to  us  the  joy  and  peace. 

To  a  friend  she  writes : 

I  have  never  experienced  a  sweeter  sentiment  than 
that  of  finding  others  to  be  my  superiors.  Perhaps 
weakness  naturally  needs  support,  but  I  love  to  meet 
people  who  surpass  me  in  merit  and  in  dignity.  When 
Mother  Theodore  was  in  France,  I  had  a  rather  humil- 
iating experience  in  this  particular.  The  Governor  of 
Indiana  announced  himself  as  coming  for  a  visit.  We 
set  to  work,  swept  the  house,  the  court,  etc.,  and  as  he 
understood  French,  I  prepared  a  pretty  little  speech. 
He  arrived.  I  stepped  forward,  opened  my  mouth,  but 
instead  of  speaking — oh! — !  His  Excellency  seemed 
greatly  surprised  at  my  emotion.  I  told  him  that,  hav- 
ing been  accustomed  since  my  childhood  to  consider  all 
legitimate  authority  as  representatives  of  God  on  earth, 
he  must  not  be  astonished  if  I  was  affected  on  seeing  the 
highest  temporal  superior  of  the  State.  I  think  it  was 
the  first  time  in  his  life  he  heard  such  sentiments  ex- 
pressed, for  he  seemed  more  than  amazed.  He  spoke 
to  several  different  persons  afterwards  of  the  pleasure 
he  derived  from  his  visit  to  Saint  Mary's,  and  of  the 
hospitable  manner  in  which  he  had  been  entertained. 
God,  in  placing  me  here,  has  given  me  such  good 
superiors  that  it  is  easy  for  me  to  keep  my  old  French 
way  of  acting.  The  republican  system  of  equality  has 
never  been  in  accord  with  my  royalist  education.  Long 
live  the  King! 

I  have  often  written  you  in  regard  to  the  "Propaga- 
tion of  the  Faith,"  and  sometimes  in  regard  to  charity, 
as  it  seems  to  me  that  the  pleasure  we  experience  in  try- 
ing to  make  others  happy  is  very  pleasing  to  God.  Oh ! 
how  happy  we  should  be  if  we  could  look  upon  the 
defects  of  our  neighbor  only  through  the  bandage  that 
Jesus  wore  for  love  of  us.  Like  Him  we  would  love 
our  fellow-creatures  despite  their  miseries;  or  rather, 


390       FABER'S  "THE  BLESSED  SACRAMENT" 

their  souls,  enhanced  with  the  love  and  the  sufferings  of 
a  God,  would  appear  so  beautiful  to  us  that  we  would 
hardly  see  the  defects. 

To  A  MISSIONARY  PRIEST 

Oh!  and  Father  Faber  writes  well,  does  he  not? 
There  are  some  things,  however,  that  I  do  not  like  very 
much ;  they  are  too  high  for  me.  Some  passages  seem 
too  lofty  for  our  limited  knowledge.  I  think  we  shall 
make  an  extract  from  this  book  [THE  BLESSED  SACRA- 
MENT] which  contains  such  beautiful  and  good  things. 
Like  you,  I  am  hard  to  please.  Even  Bossuet,  when 
he  speaks  of  this  divine  subject,  is  not  able  to  satisfy 
me.  Only  the  heart  of  a  seraph  should  direct  the  pen 
treating  such  mysteries  of  love,  and  how  much  would 
still  remain  unexpressed.  Happy,  you  priests,  to  be 
initiated  so  intimately  into  the  knowledge  of  this  in- 
effable Sacrament;  truly,  it  is  not  too  much  that  you 
pray  for  us  at  the  altar.  To  be  a  priest  is  more  than 
to  be  a  king;  it  is  more  than  to  be  an  angel.  The  human 
reason  is  lost  in  the  depth  of  this  dignity.  Oh!  I  love 
to  pray  for  priests ;  it  is  almost  to  pray  for  Jesus  Christ 
Himself.  He  so  much  desires  that  His  priests  love 
Him  and  that  they  make  Him  loved.  How  happy  we 
are  to  work  for  such  a  good  Master.  He  is  so  grateful 
for  the  good  He  makes  us  do.  What  will  be  the  reward 
if  the  work  is  so  sweet.  Yes,  cold  and  ice  must  be 
blessed;  for  everything  is  good  from  such  a  good  God. 
What  seems  to  us  the  bitterest  is  often  for  us  afterwards 
a  source  of  sweetness.  I  like  the  hymn  of  the  children 
of  Babylon;  it  reminds  me  of  the  most  beautiful  day  of 
my  life,  when  I  took  the  Holy  Habit.  It  was  a  winter 
day  and  the  priest  began  his  discourse  by  these  words : 
Snow  and  ice,  bless  ye  the  Lord.  .  .  . 

As  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier's  intense  love  for  the 
Holy  Eucharist  has  been  frequently  mentioned,  the 
series  of  her  letters  may  be  fittingly  terminated  by  a 
colloquy  addressed  to  Our  Lord  in  the  Blessed  Sacra- 


IRMA'S  COLLOQUY  WITH  OUR  LORD          391 

ment,  and  written  in  her  note  book  shortly  after  her 
arrival  in  America: 

To  speak  of  You,  O  my  dear  Jesus !  to  speak  of  You 
in  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist  is  impossible.  We 
can  speak  of  Your  birth  in  a  stable  on  a  little  straw,  of 
Your  agonizing  death  on  the  cross,  because  to  be  born 
and  to  die  are  the  lot  of  man,  and  You  became  man. 
But  who  can  understand  that  Your  love  was  not  satis- 
fied by  thirty-three  years  of  suffering?  O  my  sweet 
Savior !  who  could  ever  have  thought  of  a  greater  sacri- 
fice? All  Your  love  was  necessary  to  invent  such  de- 
votedness. 

How  You  have  loved  us,  O  Jesus!  Heaven  would 
no  longer  have  sufficed  for  You,  were  You  unable  to 
remain  with  us  on  earth.  You  had  assumed  our  nature ; 
You  knew  our  weaknesses;  You  realized  that  we 
needed  a  Friend  who  could  understand  all  our  soriows, 
another  Heart  to  support  our  faltering  ones.  But  the 
friends  of  this  world  leave  us;  hearts  often  cease  to 
respond  to  friendship,  and  others  are  stilled  in  death. 
O  my  Jesus,  men  are  like  reeds  that  break  under  and 
wound  the  hand  which  leans  upon  them  for  support. 

But  what  would  we  do  without  a  refuge,  without  a 
friend?  O  Jesus,  You  have  changed  Yourself  into  the 
substance  of  bread  and  made  Yourself  a  prisoner  with 
Your  slaves.  You  have  said  to  them:  "Come  to  Me, 
if  you  suffer,  and  I  will  console  you.  Look  at  My 
wounds.  Have  I  not  suffered  too?" 

Ah!  it  is  You,  my  Savior,  who  came  to-day  to  com- 
fort my  mother.  You  seemed  to  be  too  far  away  from 
her;  hence  You  have  drawn  nearer  to  our  house.1 
This  morning  You  came  for  the  first  time  to  the  little 
Chapel  of  Nazareth  built  for  You;  there  my  mother 
will  come  to  pray  for  me  when  evening  shall  have  fallen. 
The  evenings  are  so  sad  in  winter;  they  will  be  so  long 
for  my  mother  when  one  of  the  stars  of  her  firmament 
shall  rise  on  another  horizon.  O  my  God!  hear  her 

i  Villegurie — the  homestead — now  had  its  own  little  chapel. 


392  PRAYER  FOR  INDIANA 

prayers,  and  grant  me  now  the  grace  I  ask; — it  is  a 
great  favor,  I  know,  but  I  ask  it  of  Your  Heart  so 
tender — it  is  to  console  my  mother  not  by  having  her 
forget  me,  but  rather  by  causing  her  to  love  You  more 
in  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucharist. 

May  Your  love  make  her  forget  the  anxiety  I  caused 
her  during  my  childhood  by  the  faults  which  she  has  so 
generously  pardoned.  O  my  Savior,  I  beg  of  You  to 
grant  my  request.  I  shall  be  so  happy  1  Oh!  You 
almost  owe  it  to  my  mother  for  she  has  given  You  her 
daughter,  her  Irma  whom  You  asked  of  her  and  whom 
You  love  so  much.  Ah!  how  much  my  parents  love 
me!  And  for  all  their  care  and  tenderness  I  have 
nothing  to  give  them.  O  my  Jesus!  You  are  so  rich, 
give  them  a  beautiful  present  for  me.  I  seem  to  hear 
You  telling  me  to  choose  from  among  all  Your  posses- 
sions. Alas!  I  find  nothing  among  all  Your  treasures 
to  please  them  so  much  as  their  child.  There  is  only 
one  thing  that  would  suffice,  and  that  is  immeasurably 
great.  O  my  Savior,  shall  I  name  it?  Ah!  it  is  You, 
my  God,  You  Yourself  in  the  Sacrament  of  the  Eucha- 
rist. O  Sacrament  of  the  love  of  my  Jesus,  console  my 
family,  strengthen  my  father,  dry  the  tears  of  my 
mother,  give  joy  to  my  sisters,  be  the  haven  of  my 
brothers.  O  Fatherland,  home  of  the  exiled!  be  the 
Heaven  of  our  earth,  be  our  Riches,  our  Strength,  our 
Life;  be  the  sure  Pledge  of  our  never-ending  reunion! 

HER  PRAYER  FOR  INDIANA 

Remember,  O  Lord,  this  land  of  Indiana,  which  You 
possessed  from  the  beginning,  of  which  You  thought 
from  all  eternity;  which  You  held  in  Your  powerful 
hand  when  You  created  the  world,  and  which  was  hidden 
in  Your  adorable  Heart  when,  in  dying  on  the  cross, 
You  confided  its  poor  inhabitants  to  the  care  of  Your 
divine  Mother. 

O  Lord,  remember  Indiana!  Say  but  the  word  and 
all  here  will  be  made  children  of  Abraham.  Send  good 
laborers  into  Your  vineyard,  holy  missionaries  who  will 


PRAYER  FOR  INDIANA  393 

have  no  other  interests  than  Yours,  men  according  to 
Your  own  Heart,  and  true  servants  of  Mary,  Your 
holy  Mother. 

They  will  defend  Your  glory,  they  will  publish  Your 
Name,  they  will  save  souls  that  have  cost  You  Your 
Precious  Blood.  Visit  us  by  Your  power  and  in  Your 
mercy.  We  ask  these  favors  by  the  intercession  of  our 
holy  patrons,  Saint  Joseph  and  Saint  Francis  Xavier. 
Amen. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

LAST  DAYS  AND  DEATH   OF   IRMA 

IRMA'S   letters  clearly  reveal  that  her  thoughts 
turned  unceasingly  towards  heaven,  and  that  to  her, 
death  did  not  seem  a  separation,  but  a  reunion  in 
her  true  country.     On  the  feast  of  the  Ascension  she 
wrote  to  her  mother: 

How  could  I  refrain  from  writing  you  to-day,  my 
dearly  loved  mother? — to-day  when  my  thoughts  are  so 
close  to  yours,  since  they  are  turned  towards  our  Treas- 
ure, and  our  common  Treasure  is  in  heaven.  I  feel 
so  near  you,  I  must  talk  with  you.  It  is  true  that  you 
know  what  I  would  say,  for  your  thoughts,  like  mine, 
are  directed  towards  our  beautiful  country.  Oh!  why 
does  Jesus  not  take  us  with  Him?  Why  does  He  still 
leave  us  on  earth?  Our  turn  will  Come;  yet  a  little 
time  to  suffer  for  Him,  and  then  He  will  take  us,  as  He 
took  my  father.  To-day  our  loved  one  is  there  with 
Him — have  this  confidence,  my  mother;  it  will  please 
Our  Lord.  The  more  we  hope  in  Him,  the  more  we 
honor  His  Heart. 

Notwithstanding  her  longing  for  heaven,  Irma  would 
not  without  the  consent  of  her  superior  have  asked  God 
to  shorten  her  life.  "Mother,"  she  said  a  few  days  be- 
fore her  sister  came  to  America,  "when  Elvire  will  be 
here  I  hope  you  will  permit  me  to  go."  As  we  might 
suppose,  consent  was  not  granted,  and  she  was  forbidden 
to  renew  her  request. 

Nothing  seemed  to  announce  her  approaching  end 
when  the  time  came  for  God  to  hear,  if  not  her  prayers 

394 


IRMA'S  LAST  ILLNESS  395 

at  least  her  desires.  On  the  contrary,  at  the  beginning 
of  January,  1856,  her  health,  always  so  delicate,  seemed 
better  than  usual.  One  of  the  Sisters  who  had  been  ab- 
sent a  considerable  time  congratulated  her  on  her  anima- 
tion and  .good  appearance.  "It  is  many  years  since  I 
have  felt  as  well  as  I  do  now,"  Irma  replied;  "I  do  not 
know  what  will  happen  in  the  future,  but  God  knows." 
Yes,  God  knew  that  after  the  lapse  of  only  a  few  days 
the  end  would  come  for  her.  Sister  Mary  Joseph  will 
give  us  the  details  of  the  sudden  illness  and  last  moments 
of  the  one  so  dear  to  her: 

Feb.  2,  1856. 

Tuesday,  January  the  twenty-second,  Sister  Saint 
Francis  came  down  several  times  to  watch  me  paint. 
She  even  went  into  the  court,  and  I  think  she  must  have 
caught  cold,  for  the  next  morning  she  was  seized  with 
violent  rheumatic  pains.  She  suffered  tortures.  The 
Saturday  following  she  wished  to  go  to  confession,  and 
to  receive  Holy  Communion  as  Viaticum  since  her 
weakness  would  not  permit  her  to  fast. 

When  I  returned  from  Mass  on  Monday,  the  twenty- 
eighth,  Mother  said  to  me,  "My  daughter,  I  find  my 
dear  Sister  Saint  Francis  dangerously  ill.  I  fear  she 
cannot  recover."  To  beg  her  cure  the  novices  con- 
tinued all  day  in  prayer  in  the  chapel.  By  turns,  with- 
out interruption,  they  recited  the  Rosary  for  our  dear 
patient.  After  some  hours  of  suspense,  her  condition 
gave  hope,  and  for  the  first  time  in  six  days  we  were 
able  to  move  her. 

A  little  later  when  I  happened  to  be  alone  with  her 
she  began  to  hold  sweet  converse  with  Our  Lord. 
Though  I  was  behind  an  armchair  I  could  hear  her 
tender  sighs:  "O  Jesus,  my  Jesus,  I  love  You!  O  my 
sweet  Jesus,  how  much  I  love  You !"  I  thought  to  my- 
self, Now,  my  dear  little  Sister,  I  shall  find  out  how 
you  make  your  meditation.  After  all,  it  will  not  be 
difficult,  if  you  always  repeat  the  same  thing.  But  it 


396  IRMA'S  LAST  ILLNESS 

was  not  the  words, — Oh  no! — it  was  the  tone  with 
which  she  pronounced  them.  And  when  she  began 
again  even  more  vehemently,  "Jesus,  O  my  Jesus! 
Jesus,  my  love!"  I  went  near  the  fireplace  to  hide  my 
tears,  asking  Our  Lord  whether  He  did  not  hear  her. 
Our  Sister  Infirmarian  entered  the  room,  and  I  noticed 
that  during  the  ten  minutes  she  remained  Sister  Saint 
Francis  Xavier  was  silent ;  but  as  soon  as  she  had  gone 
her  loving  strain  recommenced:  "Jesus,  my  Jesus, 
how  good  You  are!  Jesus,  You  know  I  love  You  as 
much  as  I  am  able  to  love!  O  my  God!  if  this  is  earth, 
what  will  heaven  be?  O  Our  Lady  of  La  Salette,  I 
love  you!" 

Fearing  she  would  fatigue  herself  by  talking  so  much, 
I  left  her  to  look  for  Mother  Theodore.  "O  my  child !" 
said  Mother,  "I  am  very  uneasy.  Sister  Saint  Francis 
says  she  is  well,  very  well,  and  yet  her  pulse  is  so  quick 
that  if  I  did  not  know  how  nervous  she  is  I  would  have 
her  receive  Extreme  Unction."  "But,  Mother,"  I  re- 
plied, "perhaps  Our  Lord  wishes  to  work  a  miracle. 
When  you  are  sick,  she  prevents  you  from  dying!" 
"Who  of  us  has  her  faith  to  save  her?  Alas!"  sighed 
Mother,  "do  you  not  see  God  has  inspired  her  with  the 
belief  that  she  is  well,  so  that  she  will  not  ask  Him  for  a 
cure  which  He  would  not  refuse  her?  She  is  ripe  for 
Heaven." 

Mother  Theodore  said  that  the  crises  during  which 
Sister  Saint  Francis  yielded  to  her  transports  of  love 
could  be  called  ecstasies ;  they  disclosed  the  treasures  of 
love  shut  up  in  Irma's  heart  and  reminded  the  beholders 
of  what  she  herself  had  written  at  her  father's  death: 
"For  souls  in  their  agony  Our  Lord  has  consolations  un- 
known in  other  circumstances  of  life." 

In  the  "Memoirs"  written  by  Mother  Cecilia,  who  had 
lived  fourteen  years  of  her  religious  life  with  Sister  Saint 
Francis,  we  read:  "I  took  my  turn  to  pass  the  night 
with  her.  Shortly  after  midnight  she  became  appar- 


IRMA'S  LAST  ILLNESS  397 

ently  unconscious.  Alarmed,  I  ran  in  haste  to  call 
Mother,  who  came  immediately.  She  found  her  very  low 
but  not  dying.  She  spoke  softly  to  her  of  heaven  and 
of  Our  Lord.  Though  Sister  was  motionless  she  heard 
what  was  said,  and  suddenly  her  face  became  perfectly 
white  and  her  countenance  assumed  an  angelic  expres- 
sion. She  smiled,  ravished  with  joy.  I  exclaimed,  'O 
Mother,  how  beautiful!'  After  about  a  minute  or  two 
the  expression  died  away,  but  so  imperceptibly  that  its 
beams  of  celestial  beauty  withdrew  as  light  vanishes  at 
fall  of  day.  Whenever  I  think  of  it,  I  cannot  help  as- 
sociating it  with  the  Transfiguration  of  Our  Lord." 

Sister  Mary  Joseph's  recital  continues : 

That  same  evening,  Monday,  I  retired  to  take  a 
little  rest.  About  ten  o'clock  Sister  Julia,  who  was 
watching  by  Irma  during  the  night,  hurried  to  my  room 
calling  out,  "Quick!  quick!  come,  Sister  Saint  Francis 
is  much  worse."  Trembling,  I  went  and  found  her, — 

0  my   mother! — with    joined   hands    raised    towards 
heaven,  crying  aloud:  "I  believe,  O  my  God!  I  believe; 
You  have  said  it !    How  great  is  the  happiness  reserved 
for  those  who  love  You !     I  believe,  my  God,  I  believe ! 

1  am  in  heaven! — I  am  in  heaven!"     She  raised  her 
voice  as  she  uttered  these  words.     I  said  to  myself:  Her 
heart  will  break;  she  is  going  to  die.     "I  see  God!     I 
see  God!    Oh!  how  beautiful!     I  see  God!"     "There 
now,  my  dear  Sister,"  I  said  to  her,  "adore  Him  in 
silence."     But  she  did  not  hear  me.     "I  am  in  God ;  all 
is  in  God! — O  my  good  Mother! — O  Mary,  how  beau- 
tiful you  are!  .  .  .  O  my  God,"  she  said  suddenly,  "if 
such  is  Your  will  that  I  return  to  earth  to  begin  again 
to  live,  to  suffer,  to  die  for  Your  love,  I  consent,  my 
God.    Where  You  wish  and  as  You  wish ;  but  I  am  to 
go  to  heaven!     I   believe,   I   believe!"     Fearing   she 
would  exhaust  herself,  Mother  bade  her  be  silent.     I 
remained  watching  beside  her.     Once  or  twice  she  said 


398  IRMA'S  LAST  ILLNESS 

to  me,  "May  I  speak?  Have  I  permission?"  I  told 
her  if  it  were  not  absolutely  necessary  to  speak,  it  would 
be  better  to  keep  silence.  She  did  so. 

On  Tuesday  about  five  o'clock  [in  the  morning]  she 
sent  me  for  Mother.  When  Mother  entered  the  room 
Irma  said  to  her,  "Sister  Mary  Joseph  wanted  me  to 
keep  silence,  but  I  could  not.  I  saw  God  and  heaven. 
Oh!  how  beautiful  it  was!'*  As  I  entered  at  this  mo- 
ment she  said  to  me,  "You  will  come  too,  Elvire,  but 
not  yet." 

It  was  the  feast  of  Saint  Francis  de  Sales  [January 
29.]  I  offered  my  Communion  for  our  dear  sick  Sister. 
An  interior  voice  said  to  me,  Will  you  not  ask  Ex- 
treme Unction  for  your  Sister?  she  was  so  attentive  to 
have  others  receive  the  Last  Sacraments.  We  sent  for 
Father  Corbe  and  he  proposed  to  anoint  her.  "No, 
Father,"  she  replied,  "I  am  quite  well  again."  But 
understanding  later  that  Mother  considered  her  dan- 
gerously sick,  she  herself  asked  for  Extreme  Unction. 
I  embraced  her  and  gave  her  a  large  crucifix,  on  which 
she  had  made  her  contract  with  Our  Lord  promising 
Him  to  work  and  suffer  for  Him,  and  receiving  the 
promise  of  heaven  in  exchange.  Alas!  though  I 
found  her  ill  enough  to  make  me  think  she  must  die,  I 
nevertheless  expected  a  miracle.  She  was  anointed  on 
Tuesday  the  29th. 

The  next  day  she  asked  to  speak  with  Mother.  "I 
told  you,"  she  said,  "what  I  saw  the  other  day,  but  I 
did  not  finish.  Our  Lord  called  me  by  my  name. 
Showing  me  heaven,  He  said,  'Irma,  all  this  is  for  you ; 
it  shall  be  yours,  but  not  yet/ '  "Ah !"  exclaimed 
Mother,  "what  joy!  You  will  not  leave  us,  then,  my 
dear  child?"  "Yes,  He  said  to  me,  'You  will  stay 
a  day  or  two  longer,  and  then  heaven  will  be  yours 
forever.' ' 

She  continued  to  repeat,  "Forever,  O  my  God!  and 
for  so  little!  for  so  little!  So  much  happiness  for  so 
little!"  In  the  moments  of  her  greatest  sufferings  she 
would  become  calm  as  soon  as  Mother  pronounced  the 
name  of  Jesus.  "O  my  Jesus,"  she  would  repeat,  "how 


IRMA'S  LAST  ILLNESS  399 

good  You  are!  It  is  You,  it  is  You,  Yourself,  O  my 
God,  who  come  to  console  me,  to  sustain  me!  How 
happy  I  am!  Heart  of  my  Jesus,  how  happy  I  ami" 

On  Wednesday,  January  30,  she  said  to  me,  "I  am 
suffering  much ;  I  believe  I  am  going  to  die.  My  poor 
dear  novices!  I  am  not  able  to  speak  to  them,  and  I 
had  so  much  to  say.  And  our  dear  little  girls  of  the 
Academy,  poor  children!"  This  was  the  only  time  she 
spoke  of  her  death,  and  it  passed  like  a  flash. 

On  Thursday  she  became  so  weak  that  our  Mother 
assembled  the  community  and  recited  the  prayers  for 
the  agonizing.  For  a  little  time  she  seemed  better,  but 
soon  the  exhaustion  returned.  All  the  Sisters  came  in 
turn  to  give  her  the  last  embrace.  They  placed  in  her 
hands  her  crucifix  and  the  formula  of  her  Vows.  All 
this  time  I  held  her  in  my  arms  and  Mother  recited  the 
prayers.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  she  turned 
her  dying  eyes  toward  Heaven,  and  I  was  still  waiting 
for  her  last  sigh  when  Mother  Theodore  said  De 
profundis! 

Elvire  adds: 

Despite  these  numerous  sorrows,  my  dear  mother,  I 
have  never  ceased  to  be  happy — yes,  happy  to  have  left 
you,  to  have  come  to  America  to  take  care  of  my  dear 
Sister  Saint  Francis,  and  to  be  the  representative  of  the 
family  near  her;  happy  especially  to  have  heard  escap- 
ing from  her  lips  those  torrents  of  divine  love  which,  like 
burning  lava,  issued  from  her  inflamed  heart.  She  had 
asked  for  me  the  love  of  sufferings,  and  you  may  well 
believe  that  the  sweet  resignation  I  experience  all  the 
time  could  not  but  come  from  on  High. 

It  was  I  who  closed  her  eyes.  Even  after  death  she 
was  still  beautiful.  Her  face  was  sweet  and  composed. 
In  her  clasped  hands  she  held  the  formula  of  her  vows. 
At  her  feet  we  placed  a  wreath  of  white  roses.  All  the 
pupils  and  villagers  came  to  see  her,  even  the  non- 
Catholics  having  asked  to  share  in  this  favor. 

Mother  Theodore  has  had  a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs. 


400  DEATH  OF  IRMA 

Although  she  told  me  a  few  days  ago  that  she  would 
soon  follow  Sister  Saint  Francis,  I  remain  calm  in  the 
hands  of  God. 

A  few  days  later  Mother  Theodore  wrote  to  Madame 
le  Fer: 

February,  1856. 

I  can  hardly  believe  that  she  has  gone.  I  am,  as  it 
were,  under  the  influence  of  a  painful  dream.  We  all 
experience  the  same  feeling.  This  blow,  so  terrible  for 
all  our  Sisters,  is  doubly  so  for  me,  and  it  seems  impos- 
sible for  me  to  survive  her.  I  cannot  express  what  I 
feel. 

Night  and  day  she  is  present  in  my  mind,  but  the 
thought  of  her  does  not  distract,  does  not  draw  away 
from  God;  on  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  elevate  my 
thoughts  above  the  things  of  earth.  Never  did  this 
world  appear  so  little  and  its  affairs  so  unworthy  to 
occupy  a  heart  made  for  God  alone.  The  effect  caused 
by  her  holy  death  is  remarkable.  She  still  continues 
to  make  Our  Lord  loved.  I  should  like  to  send  you 
some  of  the  letters  we  have  received  during  the  last  two 
weeks. 

All  who  knew  her  have  almost  reproached  themselves 
for  praying  for  her.  To  pray  for  one  who  was  so  de- 
voted to  Our  Lord,  they  say,  whose  whole  life,  at  least 
for  the  last  sixteen  years,  was  but  one  continual  act  of 
love,  seems  an  injury  to  Him.  Love  broke  the  bonds 
that  held  her  soul  captive.  As  I  said  before,  it  was  an 
excess  of  love  that  caused  her  death.  But  what  a  death ! 
Oh!  no;  it  is  not  death;  rather  it  is  the  beginning  of 
true  life. 

What  glory  for  you,  Madame,  to  be  the  mother  of  a 
saint,  of  a  saint  of  the  first  order,  for  she  is,  I  am  sure, 
very  high  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  She  prays  for 
you  there,  for  God  knows  how  much  she  loves  you. 
It  is  said  in  the  world  that  religious  do  not  know  any 
longer  how  to  love.  This  is  a  great  mistake.  I  am 
sure  that  among  all  your  good  and  devoted  children, 


DEATH  OF  IRMA  401 

there  is  not  one  heart  more  devoted  than  was  your  dear 
Irma's.  Is  there  another  that  possesses  the  same  power 
of  loving?  I  doubt  it  very  much.  During  the  thirty- 
one  years  that  I  have  been  a  superior,  I  have  not  found 
another  heart  like  that  of  my  dear  Irma,  my  well-be- 
loved sister,  my  first  daughter,  my  dear  Sister  Saint 
Francis  Xavier. 

All  our  Sisters  are  animated  with  renewed  zeal  to 
continue  the  work  that  this  dear  child  was  so  eager  to 
see  prosper  and  to  labor  for  which  she  was  willing  to 
postpone  her  entrance  into  heaven,  which  Jesus  had 
shown  her  to  be  so  beautiful.  No  one  is  a  better  imi- 
tator of  our  blessed  Sister  than  dear  Sister  Mary  Jo- 
seph. She  does  not  possess  the  same  tenderness  of 
feeling,  but  hers  is  a  soul  of  great  strength ;  she  will  ac- 
complish untold  good  in  the  house  of  God.  She  is  my 
great  solace  and  I  try  to  be  hers. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  Reverend  Father  Corbe, 
the  ecclesiastical  superior  of  the  community,  wrote  to 
Madame  le  Fer: 

It  is  easy  to  understand  how  much  you  love  to  speak 
of  our  saintly  Sister  Francis  Xavier,  your  dearly  be- 
loved Irma,  and  to  hear  others  speak  of  her.  Na- 
ture indeed  claimed  for  her  all  your  maternal  affection, 
but  in  addition,  the  qualities  of  her  mind,  her  rare 
talents,  her  pure  soul,  her  noble  heart,  made  her  loved 
by  all  who  knew  her.  For  a  long  time  we  by  our 
prayers  contended  for  her  with  Heaven.  But  alas !  too 
soon,  according  to  our  human  views,  has  the  Divine 
Spouse  taken  to  Himself  the  one  whom  He  cherished 
and  enriched  with  so  many  graces.  Her  spirit,  however, 
remains  with  us  and  continues  to  animate  the  com- 
panions she  has  left. 

Her  memory  will  live  long  at  Saint  Mary-of-the- 
Woods.  I  myself  shall  never  forget  her.  I  speak  to 
her,  and  I  seem  to  hear  her  answer.  Thus  I  pass  my 
days,  in  an  illusion,  no  doubt,  but  it  is  an  illusion  pro- 
ductive of  good.  It  recalls  her  in  a  lively  manner  to 


402  DEATH  OF  IRMA 

my  mind,  and  the  remembrance  always  excites  to  virtue, 
to  the  love  of  God  and  the  desire  of  Heaven. 

Sister  Eudoxie,  Mistress  of  Novices  at  Ruille,  tells 
Irma's  sisters  at  Saint  Servan  that  she  appreciates  their 
kind  thoughtf ulness : 

I  received  with  holy  respect  the  blessed  veil  of  my 
dear  Sister  Saint  Francis.  I  regard  it  as  a  relic.  My 
memory  faithfully  retains  the  many  occasions  of  edi- 
fication she  gave  us  while  among  us,  and  I  love  to  repeat 
them  to  my  novices  in  order  to  animate  them  to  fervor 
and  love  of  duty.  Never  since  I  am  mistress  of  novices 
have  I  come  across  a  soul  so  strong,  so  generous,  and, 
I  may  add,  so  privileged.  I  hope  she  does  not  forget 
on  high  the  interest  I  had  in  her,  and  that  she  will  aid 
me  in  the  fulfillment  of  an  office  of  which  she  herself 
knows  the  difficulties. 

In  announcing  to  the  community  by  a  Letter  Circular 
the  death  of  Sister  Saint  Francis,  Mother  Theodore 
says: 

You  do  not  expect  me,  my  dear  daughters,  to  write 
a  eulogy  of  her  whom  we  have  so  many  reasons  to  re- 
gret; of  her  whose  absence  leaves  such  a  void  in  the 
community.  Her  name  alone  suffices  to  bring  to  mind 
all  that  is  sweetest,  purest,  and  most  effective  in  virtue. 
She  was  to  those  who  knew  her  the  ideal  of  religious 
perfection.  Not  only  had  we  unanimously  consid- 
ered her  the  saint  of  our  community,  but  persons  of 
the  world,  even  those  of  a  different  faith,  could  not 
behold  her  angelic  countenance  without  being  led  to 
the  thought  of  God.  Her  death  was  the  echo  of  her 
life;  or  rather  it  was  the  bursting  forth  of  a  volcano 
of  love.  During  her  lifetime  the  divine  fire  with  which 
her  heart  burned  sent  forth  only  sparks;  but  when  the 
near  prospect  of  heaven  had  taken  away  that  reserve 
which  caused  this  humble  soul  to  hide  its  treasures,  or 
better,  when  her  heart  was  no  longer  able  to  contain 
its  ardent  love,  a  torrent  of  burning  exclamations  es- 


DEATH  OF  IRMA  403 

caped  from  her  lips  with  such  vehemence  that  it  would 
seem  enough  to  break  the  feeble  bonds  which  united 
her  soul  to  her  body.  In  calling  upon  Jesus  in  the 
Holy  Eucharist,  her  voice  was  so  full  of  love  and  her 
countenance  so  celestial  that  she  appeared  to  belong  no 
more  to  earth;  she  was  already  in  heaven.  I  under- 
stood that  this  fruit  of  the  garden  of  the  Spouse  had 
reached  full  maturity  and  that  He  wished  to  gather  it 
in.  I  saw  that  I  must  immolate  my  Isaac,  and  consent 
to  be  separated  from  her,  who,  firm  as  a  rock,  had  al- 
ways supported  me  in  my  trials;  from  her,  who,  not- 
withstanding the  immense  distance  which  separated  us 
(for  she  was  a  saint)  had  always  blended  her  existence 
with  mine.  I  made  the  sacrifice  of  her, — O  my  God! 
without  a  moment's  hesitation;  for  who  am  I  to  resist 
Thee?  But  Thou  knowest  that  the  deep  wound  it  has 
made  in  my  heart  will  be  healed  only  when  I  shall  be 
reunited  to  her  in  that  heaven  which  she  beheld  so 
beautiful  in  dying. 

We  shall  all  have  the  happiness  of  rejoining  her,  my 
dear  Sisters,  if  we  are  faithful  to  follow  her  example; 
if  we  fulfill  perfectly  our  holy  obligations,  which  are 
the  same  as  hers  were.  We  are  devoted  to  the  same 
Spouse;  we  expect  the  same  recompense;  let  the  re- 
membrance of  our  cherished  Sister  Saint  Francis  en- 
courage us  in  the  combat.  As  for  her,  so  for  us;  the 
day  of  triumph  will  arrive  very  soon. 

Although  we  have  the  sweet  hope  that  our  dear 
Sister  is  in  heaven,  we  will  nevertheless  conform  to 
the  spirit  of  Holy  Church  and  to  our  Constitutions; 
therefore,  do  not  fail  to  fulfill  punctually  for  our  de- 
parted one  what  is  prescribed  by  our  holy  Rule  for  the 
deceased  Sisters.  Yes,  our  beloved,  our  saintly  Sister 
Saint  Francis  has  gone  to  heaven,  to  heaven  where  she 
already  lived  while  on  earth,  for  she  found  it  on  our 
holy  altar  with  Jesus  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  who 
was  her  delight,  her  life,  her  happiness,  her  all.  Oh! 
how  happy  she  is  now,  possessing  her  God  without  fear 
of  losing  Him.  She  was  already  so  happy  to  serve 
Him  on  earth! 


404>  DEATH  OF  IRMA 

To  one  of  the  Sisters  who  had  been  a  novice  under 
Sister  Saint  Francis,  Mother  Theodore  wrote: 

All  the  elect  die  in  the  love  of  God,  but  it  is  the 
privilege  of  few  to  die  of  love  of  God.  Love  for 
Jesus  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament  was  so  strong  in  our 
dear  Sister  that  it  broke  the  bonds  which  united  her 
soul  to  her  delicate  body;  and  to  die  of  love  of  God  is 
the  surest  way  of  going  straight  to  Him.  It  is  true, 
my  dear  Sisters,  that  I  feel  very  keenly  the  loss  I  have 
sustained.  I  could  not  present  to  Our  Lord  any  one 
who  was  so  dear  to  me  as  was  my  beloved  Sister  Saint 
Francis ;  but  she  was  truly  too  pure,  too  holy,  too  much 
inflamed  with  the  love  of  God  to  remain  with  us  any 
longer.  O  how  little,  how  small  I  feel  in  thinking  of 
my  dear  and  beloved  Sister  Saint  Francis!  I  am  glad 
you  have  written  to  poor  Sister  Mary  Joseph.  She 
has  been  admirable  in  her  sacrifice.  I  can  tell  you,  she 
has  a  strong  and  great  soul.  I  pray  Our  Lord  to  give 
you  the  spirit  of  our  beloved  Sister  Saint  Francis. 

In  another  letter  of  Mother  Theodore,  we  find  these 
words : 

It  will  be  good  to  die  as  Sister  did,  but  for  that 
we  must  live  as  she  lived.  She  did  not  think  even  once 
that  she  had  to  be  judged.  She  heard  her  Jesus,  her 
chaste  and  beloved  Spouse,  calling  her  by  her  name, 
and  she  listened  to  Him  with  unbounded  love,  and 
without  the  least  fear. 

In  notifying  Father  Gleizal,  S.  J.,  of  their  bereave- 
ment, Mother  Theodore  says: 

It  costs  a  great  deal,  my  venerated  Father,  to  say  Thy 
be  done,  my  God.  Yes,  it  costs  much  to  lose  a 
subject  like  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier.  You  can  re- 
alize it,  for  you  knew  that  heart  all  on  fire  with  love 
of  God.  You  knew  with  what  zeal  she  labored  to  form 
Jesus  in  the  hearts  of  others.  During  the  fifteen  years 


DEATH  OF  IRMA  405 

of  her  life  at  Saint  Mary's  we  saw  her  walk  with  a 
firm  step  in  the  constant  practice  of  perfection,  with- 
out ever  relaxing  or  showing  those  vicissitudes  of  good 
and  bad  days  so  common  among  persons  of  our  own 
age.  She  was  always  a  fervent  religious,  and  I  dare 
say  it  to  you,  Father,  the  most  perfect  I  have  ever 
known.  We  were  always  obliged  to  hold  her  back  with 
the  curb  of  obedience,  which  virtue  she  practiced  most 
perfectly. 

To  a  very  devoted  friend,  Father  Benoit  of  Fort 
Wayne,  Mother  Theodore  wrote,  making  allusion  to  the 
grave  illness  from  which  she  herself  had  but  recently 
recovered : 

I  must  thank  you  for  your  very  true,  very  cordial 
sympathy.  Yes,  I  believe  you  share  in  the  sorrows 
and  consolations  of  my  heart;  I  feel  it. 

It  is  true  that  a  victim  was  required,  and  could, 
even  ought,  to  be  immolated  at  Saint  Mary's.  One  was 
therefore  brought  to  the  altar,  the  Angel  of  Death  had 
his  arm  raised;  he  was  about  to  strike,  but  the  victim 
was  rejected.  Only  for  a  very  short  time,  however,  a 
time  given  her  through  divine  mercy  to  prepare  herself. 
Pray,  oh  pray,  that  she  may  profit  by  it.  Sister  Saint 
Francis  was  necessary  to  my  existence,  and  for  noth- 
ing in  the  world  would  she  have  given  me  the  sorrow 
of  seeing  her  die;  but  the  sacrifice  of  being  resigned  to 
live  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  those  she 
loved  in  Him  cost  her  much  more  than  dying.  To  live 
separated  from  God  was  her  greatest  sacrifice  and  her 
most  intense  desire  was  to  be  united  to  Him. 

Nevertheless  she  was  too  generous,  and  thought  too 
little  of  herself  to  ask  God  to  hasten  her  death.  Dur- 
ing one  of  those  crises  to  which  one  could  well  give 
the  name  of  ecstasies,  she  believed  herself  in  heaven. 
She  enjoyed  the  ineffable  happiness  of  the  celestial 
abode ;  this  showed  on  her  countenance — she  looked  like 
an  angel.  She  said  to  Our  Lord:  "No,  my  Jesus,  not 
yet ;  let  me  make  You  loved  on  earth,  let  me  suffer  for 


406  DEATH  OF  IRMA 

You.  You  know  I  am  ready  for  the  love  of  You,  even 
to  go  to  hell,  provided  I  could  there  love  You."  We 
heard  those  words  falling  from  her  lips  in  her  loving 
rapture,  but  we  did  not  hear  what  her  Beloved  an- 
swered her.  Thirty-eight  hours  before  she  died  she 
told  me  that  Our  Lord  had  said  to  her:  "You  will  re- 
main to  suffer  a  day  or  two  longer  and  then  you  will 
come  and  be  with  me  in  Paradise  forever."  This  word 
"forever"  was  so  deeply  engraved  in  her  soul  with  the 
thought  of  heaven,  that  she  repeated  it  twenty  or 
thirty  times  in  succession  with  the  holy  name  of 
Jesus. 

She  told  me  something  which  I  entrust  to  you  as  a 
secret;  it  was  that  I  should  soon  follow  her.  Oh!  if  I 
could  really  follow  her!  But  no,  never  shall  I  have 
her  virtue,  never  shall  I  love  as  she  loved.  Ask  for  me 
the  grace  to  do  penance  and  to  bear  joyfully  and 
lovingly  the  loss  of  my  cherished  daughter,  so  as  to  be 
less  unworthy  of  her. 


CHAPTER  XX 

DEATH   OF   MOTHER   THEODORE — SISTER   MARY   JOSEPH, 

MISTRESS   OF   NOVICES — DEATH   OF   SISTER 

MARY   JOSEPH 

WE  must  not  leave  Saint  Mary-of -the- Woods 
without  adding  some  lines  to  the  memory  of 
Mother  Theodore,  the  devoted  friend  and 
tender  spiritual  mother  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier, 
and  to  their  beloved  Elvire,  Sister  Mary  Joseph.  At 
the  death  of  Sister  Saint  Francis,  it  will  be  remembered, 
the  good  superior  confided  to  Father  Benoit  Irma's 
prophecy  that  she  was  to  follow  soon,  and  God  did  not 
prolong  the  separation  of  the  two  whom  He  had  so 
closely  united  on  earth.  About  two  months  after  the 
death  of  Irma  Mother  Theodore  was  seized  with  a  serious 
and  very  painful  illness.  She  saw  death  approaching 
but  it  caused  her  no  fear.  Even  in  the  throes  of  a  long 
agony  she  remained  peaceful,  and  as  her  daughters  were 
pained  to  see  her  sufferings  continue,  she  said  to  them, 
"The  time  is  very  short,  my  dear  children,  compared  to 
eternity." 

During  those  weeks  of  uneasiness  and  anguish  the 
pious  religious  had  hoped  to  move  heaven,  as  they  had 
often  done  before,  to  obtain  of  Our  Lord  the  preserva- 
tion of  so  precious  a  life ;  but  her  time  of  trial  was  ended. 
The  day  of  repose  and  recompense  had  at  last  arrived. 
May  14,  1856,  God  called  to  Himself  His  faithful 
servant,  and  reunited  her  to  her  Irma  and  to  all  her 
cherished  daughters  who  had  preceded  her.  This  loss, 

407 


408      DEATH  OF  MOTHER  THEODORE 

so  afflicting  to  all  the  Sisters  of  Saint  Mary-of-the- 
Woods,  was  especially  so  to  Sister  Mary  Joseph,  who 
had  bestowed  upon  Mother  Theodore  all  the  affection 
she  had  once  given  to  Irma.  But  the  death  of  God's 
chosen  ones  leaves  in  the  depths  of  souls  surviving  them 
a  source  of  strength  and  consolation.  This  is  an  es- 
sential of  sanctity,  that  it  leaves  its  impress  on  the  earth 
where  it  acquired  its  perfection.  Where  the  saints  pass, 
God  passes  with  them. 

"It  was  not  grief  that  caused  the  death  of  our  cher- 
ished Mother,"  wrote  Elvire  to  her  family;  "do  not  think 
so.  No,  no;  her  soul  was  too  great,  too  generous,  not 
to  sacrifice  to  God  her  dearest  daughter.  The  grace  of 
God  is  more  powerful  than  human  nature  is  weak. 
'Though  my  heart  palpitates  at  the  least  contradiction, 
I  did  not  feel  it  beat  at  all  at  the  death  of  my  dear  Sister 
Saint  Francis  Xavier.  It  suffers  much,  but  it  does  not 
throb/ — this  Mother  herself  said  to  me  with  astonish- 
ment." 

Father  Corbe  again  wrote  to  Madame  le  Fer: 

For  fifteen  years  God  has  made  us  pass  through 
many  tribulations;  blows  seemed  to  fall  all  about  us; 
but  this  time  His  strokes  have  penetrated  even  to  the 
heart's  core.  The  death  of  our  dear  Sister  Saint 
Francis  was  but  the  beginning  of  the  sacrifice  He  was 
going  to  require  from  us.  He  has  not  struck  us  in  His 
wrath,  however,  for  the  two  victims  whom  He  has 
chosen  were  capable,  rather,  of  opening  the  treasures  of 
His  mercies.  But,  considered  from  a  human  point  of 
view  our  loss  is  irreparable.  Great,  indeed,  was  the 
grief  of  all  the  Sisters  on  the  14th  of  May,  about  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  I  entered  Mother  Theo- 
dore's room  and  found  them  on  their  knees,  crushed,  as 
it  were,  by  the  stroke  which  had  bowed  them  down. 
They  turned  toward  me  as  if  for  consolation.  Alas !  I 
had  none  to  give,  Were  they  not  doubly  orphans? 


SISTER  M.  JOSEPH,  MISTRESS  OF  NOVICES      409 

Ever  since  I  had  known  Mother  Theodore  and  Irma, 
I  had  seen  them  zealous,  yet  always  ingenious  in  smooth- 
ing over  the  difficulties  of  the  religious  life  for  their 
daughters — the  one,  the  good  superior  removing  the 
thorns  and  briars  on  the  way,  and  fearing  not  to  be 
wounded  herself  in  order  to  spare  her  daughters  suffer- 
ings ;  the  other,  culling  gayly  the  smallest  flowers  which 
budded  in  their  path — often  a  little  rough — and  show- 
ing their  charms  and  perfumes  to  her  novices.  Both 
of  them,  though  different  in  disposition,  accomplished 
the  same  end.  Both,  too,  had  the  same  sufferings ;  they 
desired  them,  and  their  delight  was,  as  they  said,  to 
be  on  the  cross  with  their  Savior.  This  good  Master 
consoled  both  with  delights  so  extraordinary  as  to  be 
considered  foretastes  of  heaven. 

Nothing  could  be  more  beautiful  than  the  death  of 
these  two  holy  religious.  One  would  have  said  they  had 
fallen  into  a  sweet  and  peaceful  slumber  while  caressed 
by  rays  of  divine  light.  Such  is  the  destiny  of  the  elect. 
The  evening  of  a  good  life  touches  the  aurora  of  heaven. 
Those  whom  we  so  regret  are  not  lost  to  the  community. 
They  pray  for  Saint  Mary-of-the- Woods,  and  it  is 
doubtless  to  their  intercession  we  owe  the  choice  made  at 
the  elections,  the  good  dispositions  of  the  Sisters,  and  the 
excellent  spirit  existing  among  them. 

Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  was  succeeded  in  the  im- 
portant office  of  Mistress  of  Novices  by  Sister  Mary 
Joseph.  Gifted  with  a  generous  heart,  Elvire  had  con- 
secrated herself  unreservedly  to  God,  so  that  the  death 
of  Sister  Saint  Francis  and  of  Mother  Theodore  far 
from  weakening  her  courage,  seemed  rather  to  give  her 
new  strength.  Until  then  she  had  only  to  listen,  and 
to  retain  the  wise  counsels  of  a  mistress  skilled  in  the 
guidance  of  souls;  now,  vested  with  the  spirit  of  a  new 
Eliseus,  Sister  Mary  Joseph  brought  to  the  novitiate 
the  treasures  of  a  cultured  mind,  a  heart  inflamed  with 
divine  love,  and  a  soul  capable  of  the  most  heroic  sacri- 


410  DEATH  OF  SISTER  M.  JOSEPH 

fice.  She  applied  herself  with  her  whole  being  to  mak- 
ing those  entrusted  to  her  care  true  and  faithful  spouses 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  For  twelve  years  she  re- 
mained in  charge  of  the  novices,  and  was  then  elected 
first  assistant  to  the  Superior-General,  an  office  she  held 
until  her  death,  December  12,  1881. 

When  the  life  of  Sister  Saint  Francis  was  first  pub- 
lished Sister  Mary  Joseph  was  nearing  the  end  of  her 
exile.  Her  last  work  was  that  of  the  English  transla- 
tion, but  she  passed  away  before  its  completion.  Con- 
cerning her  wishes,  Madame  Corbiniere,  in  a  later  work, 
entitled  "L'Indiana,"  says: 

"She  exacted  of  her  Sisters  in  religion  that  nothing 
should  be  said  of  her  after  her  death  in  that  translation. 
'I  can  exact  this  promise  from  you,  but  from  my  sisters 
in  France  I  cannot;  they  would  disobey  me.'  Yes, 
dear  and  beloved  sister,  you  well  knew  that  in  a  certain 
sense  we  would  disobey  you;  yet,  she  who  writes  these 
pages  conforms  to  your  desires,  as  she  feels  that  you  hold 
her  pen  and  her  heart  in  check  when  they  wish  to  portray 
on  paper  your  many  virtues.  You  smile  at  her  affection 
for  you,  but  you  enjoy  her  lack  of  power,  and  you  rejoice 
at  having  hidden  from  the  gaze  of  the  world  so  many 
good  and  beautiful  acts  which  are  known  to  and  regarded 
by  God  alone.  You  compel  the  hand  that  pens  these 
words,  and  which  would  wish  to  do  more,  to  say  simply, 
that  of  all  the  flowers  which  beautify  the  garden  of  the 
Divine  Gardener,  the  humble  violet  is  the  one  which 
yields  the  most  exquisite  perfume.  With  Irma's  cruci- 
fix pressed  to  her  lips,  Elvire's  soul  passed  away.  Her 
last  words  were  a  resume  of  her  life  of  abnegation,  obedi- 
ence, and  humility." 

In  accepting  the  dedication  of  "L'Indiana,"  Mon- 


THE  LAST  RESTING  PLACE  411 

seigneur  Sebaux,  Bishop  of  Angouleme,  wrote  to  the 
author:  "The  Very  Reverend  Mother  Mary  Lecor,  Su- 
perior General  of  Ruille-sur-Loir,  once  said  to  me,  'Sis- 
ter Saint  Francis  Xavier  was  indeed  destined  to  be  an 
apostle.  A  soul  of  fire,  she  inflamed  all  with  whom  she 
came  in  contact.'  Could  she  have  paid  her  a  more  beau- 
tiful tribute?  The  same  words  can  be  equally  applied 
to  Sister  Mary  Joseph,  her  sister  and  disciple,  whose 
saintly  life  you  have  just  written." 

We  cannot  refrain  from  adding  at  the  present  day, 
that  all  the  hopes  and  expectations  of  our  beloved 
Mother  Theodore  concerning  Sister  Mary  Joseph  were 
fully  realized.  The  twenty-nine  years  that  she  was 
spared  to  the  community  were  years  of  heroic  devoted- 
ness  and  shining  example.  She  transmitted  the  spirit 
and  faithfully  conserved  the  holy  teachings  received 
from  her  angelic  sister  and  the  holy  Foundress,  and  she 
justly  shares  in  the  veneration  in  which  they  are  held. 

The  remains  of  the  two  sisters  were  interred  side  by 
side  in  the  community  cemetery,  their  graves  being 
marked  by  simple  wooden  crosses.  There  they  rested 
until  December  3,  1907,  when  they  were  translated  to 
the  crypt  of  the  conventual  church ;  and  here  they  repose 
— Sister  Saint  Francis  Xavier  and  Sister  Mary  Joseph 
— one  on  each  side  of  the  venerated  foundress,  their  be- 
loved Mother  Theodore. 


INDEX 


Agnes,  Sister,  270 

Alphonse  [Le  Per  de  la  Motte]  1, 
Minor  Orders  for,  43;  ordination 
of,  131;  gifts  from,  209,  378; 
seminary  friends,  379 

Ambrose,  Sister  Mary,  "Reminis- 
cences," 242,  386 

Amelia,  Queen,  198 

Ange,  Sister  St.,  superior  of  con- 
vent in  Brest,  123;  welcomes 
Irma,  134;  permits  her  to  visit 
Bishop  Bouvier  and  her  parents, 
137 

"Angel  and  the  Soul,"  The,  218 

Angelina   [Payan],  16,  22 

Angelina,  Sister,  358 

Angers,  52,  62 

Anne  d'Auray,  Ste.,  370 

Aubineau,  L£on,  Introduction  by, 
xix;  writings  of,  109,  193,  201 

Audran,  Abb6,  378 

Bathilde,  Mme.,  153 

Batty,  Dr.,  262,  267 

Bazin,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  Vincennes, 
276;  illness,  278;  death,  280 

Bechnec,  Mile,  de,  208 

Bellier,  Abbe,  146,  166,  169 

Benedictines,  arrival  in  Indiana,  359 

Benoit,  Mgr.,  405 

Bernard,  Mile.,  350 

Besnoin,  S.J.,  Pere,  39,  47,  73 

Beyerly,  Mr.  Joseph,  158,  161,  164, 
188,  196 

Blanc,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  New 
Orleans,  353 

Blessed  Sacrament,  The,  390 

Bouillerie,  Mgr.  de  la,  218 

Bouvier,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  Le  Mans, 
letter  of,  to  Irma,  136;  gives  de- 
cision for  America,  140;  permits 
Irma  to  take  her  vows,  144; 
Irma's  letters  to,  349  et  teq.;  au- 
thor, 358;  portrait  of,  356,  362; 
death  of,  363 

Brest,  118  et  seq. 

Brett,  Martha,  253,  376 

Brut£,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  Vincennes, 
xxiii,  41,  175,  179 

Buteux,  Father,  165,  182 

413 


Cardonnet,  Abbe1,  chaplain  and  tu- 
tor, xxi;  Irma's  spiritual  director, 
21;  approves  her  choice  of  the 
Foreign  Missions,  136,  223;  letter 
to,  219;  devotion  to  Blessed  Vir- 
gin, 2-21 ;  death  of,  222 

Carls,  Mr.  and  Miss,  153 

Garret,  Abbe,  39 

Cecile  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte],  letters 
to,  53,  74,  84,  88,  101,  105,  116, 
125,  132,  153;  marriage  of,  364 

Chambord,  Count  of,  342 

Chantelou,  Mme.  de,  letter  to,  383 

Charity,  Sisters  of,  Emmitsburg, 
175;  Nazareth,  Ky.,  175 

Charles  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte,  Irma's 
father],  1,  14,  217;  letter  to,  dis- 
closing her  choice  of  the  religious 
life,  44;  other  letters,  80,  90;  a 
"Happy  contagion,"  104;  learns 
Irma  is  to  receive  the  Habit, 
115;  is  invited  to  visit  her  at 
Rennes,  119;  decision  for  Vin- 
cennes, 139;  farewell  letters  to, 
148;  first  letter  to,  from  Indiana, 
183;  other  letters  to,  307-8;  death 
of,  313 

Charles  [Irma's  brother],  letters  to, 
67;  marriage  of,  295 

Charles,  Mother  St.,  64,  195 

Chartrand,  Rt.  Rev.  Joseph,  Pref- 
ace by,  iv 

Chass<§,  Father,  278 

Chatard,  Rt.  Rev.  F.  S.,  Bishop  of 
Indianapolis,  Dedication  to,  xv; 
letter  of,  xvii 

Chateaubriand,  222,  229 

Chateau  Lanrigan,  43 

Choesnet,  M.  Joseph,  marriage  of, 
364;  death  of,  370 

Clementine  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte], 
Dedication  by,  xv;  Irma's  letters 
to,  29,  64,  69,  126,  309 

Clementine,  Sister,  258 

Coedro,  Abbe1,  vicar-general  of 
Rennes,  43;  encourages  Irma  to 
go  to  the  Foreign  Missions,  47; 
death  of,  114 

Cognets,  Mme.,  letter  to,  383 


414 


INDEX 


Collet,  Abbe,  Elvire's  director,  325; 
Irma's  letters  to,  326,  344,  346; 
gifts  from,  378 

Contin,  Father,  208,  300 

Corbe,  Father,  anecdote  about 
Bishop  Brute,  176;  chaplain  at  St. 
Mary-of-the-Woods,  187;  prays 
for  Mother  Theodore's  recovery, 
228;  named  superior  of  the  semi- 
nary, 277;  letters  of,  362,  401,  408 

Corbiniere,  Mme.  de  la  [Clementine 
le  Fer  de  la  Motte],  xv,  xvii,  410 

Decade,  The,  15 

Demolon,  Miles.,  173,  309 

Derrien,  Abb£,  212 

Desgenettes,  Pere,  195 

Dinan,  xx,  165 

Dogma  of  Immaculate  Conception 
Proclaimed,  363;  joy  at  St.  Mary- 
of-the-Woods,  378;  celebration  at 
Saint-Servan,  368 

Dorin,  Mons.,  395 

Drake,  Almeria,  359,  388 

Dupont,  Leon,  "The  Holy  Man  of 
Tours,"  Irma's  companion  to 
Havre,  146;  Sister  M.  Joseph's 
reminiscences  of,  150;  letter  to, 
178;  letter  of,  319;  gift  to  St 
Mary's,  378 

Dupontavice,  Father,  234,  266,  379 

"Echo,"  The,  18 

Elliott,  C.S.P.,  Rev.  Walter,  Intro- 
duction by,  v 

Elvire  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte]— Sis- 
ter M.  Joseph— letters  to,  61,  79, 
128-9;  religious  vocation  of,  324; 
arrives  at  St.  Mary-of-the-Woods, 
332;  receives  the  Habit,  346; 
elected  Mistress  of  Novices,  409; 
death  of,  410 

Esther,  Sister  Mary  [Martha 
Brett],  253 

Eudoxie,  Sister,  61,  71,  76,  92,  105, 
402 

Eugene  [Irma's  brother],  letters  to, 
66,  267 

Eugenie  [her  sister],  letters  to,  55, 
71,  92,  115,  124,  149,  323,  328,  373, 
380 

Falk,  Capt,  153 

Fanchette,  36 

Fer  de  la  Motte,  Le — Family  his- 
tory, xx ;  members  of  family,  1 

Fer  de  la  Motte,  Le,  Henri,  13, 
293 


Fire  at  St.  Mary-of-the-Woods,  191, 

226 

Forbin-Janson,  Mgr.,  193 
Fours-a-Chaux,  xx,  xxiii,  3 

Gallitzin,  Princess,  158,  165 
Gicquel  des  Touches,  Mme.  Albert, 

118,  123 

Ginguen£,  Mme  de,  xxv,  3  et  seq. 
Gleizal,  S.J.,  Father,  369,  404 
Governor  of  Indiana,  The,  229,  389 
Gue>in,    v,   269,    tee   Mother    Theo- 
dore 

Hailandiere,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  Vin- 
cennes,  vii,  41,  49;  engages  Sisters 
of  Providence  for  his  diocese, 
173;  difficulties,  270;  resigns,  274, 
277 

Havre,  146,  150,  157 

Henry  V,  342,  343 

Indiana — Benedictines  settle  in, 
359;  birds  of,  185,  214;  character 
of  inhabitants,  ix,  173-^t,  177,  179, 
351;  description  of  the  forest, 
174,  213;  diocese  of  Vincennes, 
xxiii,  41,  175;  educational  work, 
174,  178;  St.  Mary-of-the-Woods 
Academy,  199;  early  conditions, 
viii,  173,  185,  188;  Wabash  River 
shells,  212;  PRAYER  for,  392;  visit 
of  the  Governor  of,  to  St.  Mary's, 
229,  389 

Indiana,  L',  410 

Ins t It ut tones  Theologicae  Ad  Utum 
Seminariorum,  358 

Iowa,  The,  148,  151-3-5,  165 

Irma  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte] — Sis- 
ter St.  Francis  Xavier — birth  and 
baptism,  1;  parentage,  1;  First 
Communion,  6;  chosen  godmother, 
8;  controversies  with  non-Catho- 
lics, 38;  daily  Communion,  51; 
duties  as  preceptress,  33,  65; 
early  friendship,  19;  gift  of 
story-telling,  30;  interest  in 
orphan  boys,  33;  irksomeness  of 
regularity  in  home  life,  19;  reli- 
gious instruction  of  the  poor,  30, 
32,  38;  a  parting  legacy  to  her 
poor  people,  36;  love  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  3,  5,  31;  May  Devo- 
tions, 34;  retreats  for  the  poor, 
32;  sojourn  at  Lorette,  20;  spe- 
cial retreat  and  conversion  to  a 
perfect  life,  26;  vow  of  virginity, 
40;  vocation  to  the  Foreign  Mis- 


INDEX 


415 


sions  and  letter  to  her  father, 
44;  goes  to  Soulaines,  52;  tries 
the  religious  life  with  Mother 
Theodore,  .'>.'  et  seq.;  at  Le  Mans, 
138;  at  Rennes,  48,  139,  143;  at 
Tours,  59,  62;  at  Ruille-sur-Loir, 
in  the  novitiate,  61  to  103;  re- 
ceives the  Habit,  114,  118;  is  mis- 
sioned to  Brest,  118,  120;  letters 
to  her  mother  from  Brest,  121-3, 
130-9,  140-44-46,  156,  158; 
"France  or  America?"  136;  Bish- 
op Bouvier's  decision,  140;  vows 
of  religion,  144;  vow  of  conse- 
cration to  the  Blessed  Sacrament, 
144,  devotion  to,  43,  377,  390; 
daily  Communion,  51 ;  returns  to 
bid  adieu  to  her  family,  138;  at 
Havre,  146,  150,  157;  at  New 
York,  158  to  168;  arrives  at  St. 
Mary-of-the-Woods,  170;  first  oc- 
cupations, 172,  203;  letters  to  her 
mother,  170,  187,  194,  197,  225, 
280,  299,  316,  330,  333,  342,  386; 
letters  to  Mother  Theodore  in 
France,  252,  270-71-72;  elected 
Mistress  of  Novices,  241;  com- 
munity trials,  269;  illness  and 
cure  through  Water  of  La  Sa- 
lette,  282;  zealous  promoter  of 
confraternities — Our  Lady  of 
Victory,  195,  Heart  of  Mary,  204, 
Holy  Childhood,  205,  Propaga- 
tion of  the  Faith,  204,  Mary  in 
the  Temple,  262;  last  illness,  394; 
raptures  of  love,  398;  her  vision 
of  paradise,  397;  day  of  death 
revealed  to  her,  398;  death  of, 
399;  burial  in  convent  cemetery, 
411;  present  tomb  in  conventual 
church,  411.  Appreciations — by 
Mother  Theodore,  400,  402,  404-5; 
by  Father  Corbe,  401;  by  Sister 
Eudoxie,  Mistress  of  Novices  at 
Ruille,  402;  by  Mother  Mary, 
Superior  General  at  Ruille,  411. 
Natural  characteristics,  xxii,  28, 
40,  53,  55  et  teq.,  232.  Special 
virtues— Faith,  51,  63,  85,  126, 
131,  134;  Humility,  57,  147,  186, 
249,  374;  Love  of  God,  40,  144, 
159,  161,  172,  196,  398;  Obedience, 
63,  89,  100,  160,  173,  394;  Pov- 
erty, 108,  162,  .  172,  181,  190; 
Prayer,  137,  256,  355,  360;  Spirit 
of  Sacrifice,  78,  160,  165,  180,  233; 
Tenderness  for  the  Poor,  33-4-6, 
260  et  teq.;  Unbounded  Confi- 


dence, 87,  163;  Zeal,  30  to  38,  135, 
153,  204 

Joseph,  St.,  feast  of,  12,  81;  assist- 
ance of,  200,  218,  323,  354 

Joseph,  Sister  Marie,  251 

Joseph,  Sister  M.  [Le  Fer  de  la 
Motte],  see  Elvire 

Josephine,  Sister,  252,  369 

Kenrick,    Mgr.,    Archbishop    of    St. 

Louis,  279 
Kraoul,   or    Kerraoul,    Mme.    Vittu 

de,  21,  295,  341 
Kraoul,  M.  Charles,  341 
Kundek,  Father,  203 

Lacordaire,  Pere,  193 

Ladies  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  The, 
146,  148,  153,  160 

Ladies  of  St.  Thomas,  The,  141,  148 

Lalumiere,  Father,  175,  193 

Lecor,  411,  gee  Mother  Mary 

Lepinay,  Mile.,  104 

Leroux,  Miles.,  35 

Letters  to  her  family,  166,  181, 
207,  209,  211;  letters  to  one  of  her 
sisters,  27,  74;  letters  to  her 
grandmother,  81;  letters  to  her 
aunt  Marie,  83,  216,  222,  301,  339; 
letters  to  her  aunt  Jeanne,  93, 
227;  letters  to  her  aunt,  Mme.  de 
la  Salle,  58,  179,  182,  227,  295, 
297,  371,  374;  letters  to  her 
cousin,  C£cile  de  la  Salle,  57,  72, 
254;  letters  to  a  friend,  about  vo- 
cation, 77;  letters  to  a  friend  at 
Rennes,  46;  letters  to  Mile.  Marie 
le  M.,  10,  48 

Ligouri,  Sister  Mary,  251 

Louis  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte],  letters 
to,  155 

Madeleine,  80,  167,  169,  171 
Madison,  212,  266 
Magdalen,  Sister  M.,  212 
Malo,  Saint-,  xx,  55,  174 
Mame,  Mons.,  210,  212 
Marc,  Mgr.  Saint-,  131 
Maresco,  Countess  de,  72,  105 
Martin,  Mgr.,  42,  48,  230,  361 
Mary,  Sister,  270 
Maurice,  Sister,  250 
Meen,  Saint-,  165 
Mertian,  Father,  49 
Michel,  Pere,  386,  340,  375 
Month  of  Mary,  xxiii,  35,  48 
Monut,  Family,  229 


416 


INDEX 


Morlaix,  165 

Moreau,  Abb£,  149 

Mother  Cecilia,  192,  196,  207,  396 

Mother  Mary,  56,  64,  74,  85,  94,  271, 
273,  361 

Mother  Protet,  148 

Mother  St.  Charles,  64,  195 

Mother  Theodore,  at  Soulaines,  50, 
52,  54,  58,  59,  60;  at  Ruilte-sur- 
Loir,  61,  64,  99,  100;  departs  for 
America,  101;  at  St.  Mary-of-the- 
Woods,  110,  164,  165;  in  France, 
190;  returns  to  Indiana,  198;  ac- 
cident to,  316;  qualifications  of, 
54,  55,  388;  illness  of,  226,  358, 
369;  letters  of,  to  Mme.  le  Fer, 
112,  284,  305,  338,  346,  400;  death 
of,  407;  tomb  of,  411 

Motte,  de  la,  M.  Henri,  13,  217,  293 

Notre  Dame,  Religious  of,  197 
Notre  Dame  University,  148 

O'Connor,  Bishop,  Letter  of,  xiv 
Our  Lady  of  La  Salette,  281,  340 
Our  Lady  of  Loretto,  xx,  147 
Our  Lady  of  Nazareth,  221 
Our  Lady  of  Roncaie,  147 
Our  Lady  of  Saint-Jouan,  147 
Olympiade,  Sister,  60,  99,  197,  212, 

234,  341 
Orphans,    at    Saint-Servan,    33;    at 

Vincennes,  262,  308 

Palais,  Mgr.  de  Saint-,  Bishop  of 
Vincennes,  262,  277,  280,  352,  353, 
358  361 

Paille'ur,  Abb£  le,  65,  126 

Paret,   Father,   180 

Parmentier,  Mme.  and  Mile.,  163, 
195,  196,  205 

Paul  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte],  165, 
267,  268 

Pay  an,  Angelina,  16,  22;  Elvire,  24, 
41,  47 

"Peck  of  Oats,"  anecdote  of  the,  90 

P6pa  [Le  Fer  de  la  Motte],  1;  let- 
ters to,  59,  65,  75,  88,  90,  96,  108, 
145,  163,  298,  323,  377 

Petit,  Father,  xxiii,  204 

Pinatel,  Major,  291 

Picquet,  Mme.,  336 

Piux  IX,  357,  362,  372,  383 

Portier,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  Mobile, 
276 

Portrait  of  Bishop  Bouvier,  356; 
of  Mother  Theodore,  360;  of  Sis- 
ter St  Francis,  347 


PRAYER  FOR  INDIANA,  392 
Providence,   Sisters   of,  of    Ribeau- 

ville,  Alsace,  49 
Providence,    Sisters    of,    at    Ruill6- 

sur-Loir,   33,   36,   50,   55,    63,   86, 

130,  146,  150,  270;  at  Saint-Servan, 

xxi,  5,  86;   at    Rennes,   139,   143; 

at  Le  Mans,   136,   138,   146,   150; 

at    Soulaines,   53    et   »eq.;   at   St. 

Mary-of-the- Woods,  viii,  xix,  110, 

148,  162  et  seq. 
Purcell,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  Cincinnati. 

276 

Quiberon,  xxi,  4,  9 

Ranee,  The,  xx,  10,  11,  102 
Rennes,  74,  121,  139,  143,  204 
REUNION,  Prayer  of,  68 
Roquet,  Mons.,  261,  300;  Margaret, 
300 

Sadlier,  Mrs.,  204,  208 

Saint-Jouan,  20,  147,  210 

Saint-Malo,  xx,  55,  174 

Saint-Meen,  165 

Saint-Servan,  xx,  1,  11,  86,  138 

St.  Mary-of-the-Woods,  162  et  t»q. 

Sauvage,  Abbd,  95,  372 

Sebaux,  Mgr.,  Bishop  of  Angoul£me, 

410 

Seraphine,  Sister,  386 
Sorin,  C.S.C.,  Father,  148,  154,  157, 

158,  188 
Soulaines,  52  to  64 

Terre  Haute,  xxv,  172,  196,  212 

Thralls,  Priscilla,  199 

Theodore,    see    Gue>in;    tee   Mother 

Theodore 

Theodore,  Sister  M.,  381 
Thyrat,    Mme.    de    la    Saudre,    118, 

123,  131 

Tiennoux,  Louison,  210 
Tours,  59,  61,  74,  186,  204,  210 

Univert,  L',  193,  204 
Ursulines,    The,    of    Tours,    62;    of 
New  Orleans,  198 

Valdivieso,  Natalia,  294,  340 

Valette,  Mme.  de  la,  xix,  201,  210 

Varela,  Father,  195 

Veuillot,  Louis,  32,  201 

Villegurie,  221 

Vincennes,    xxiii,    88;    cathedral    of, 

112;  139,  159,  171,  175;  orphanage 

for  boys,  262 

Wabash,  The,  212 


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Series  9482 


"  '   ' II II     II I  I II  II     III 

A     001  030  853     4 


